Ponderings

   Ever ponder certain things that get into your head when not much is going on? Stuff that when it pops in just won't go away? It happens to me all the time and it may be because I'm a very non linear thinker. I have a tendency to go off on a tangent from time to time but usually get back on track after a while. And on that note, here goes.

• What's so bad about being nonlinear?
• Why do we need a photo ID to cash a check but not to vote?
• Why are drug tests given to workers but not welfare recipients?
• What is the '' whole nine yards''? [I actually looked that one up]
• Why will some folks climb a flag pole to tell a lie when it's easier to stand on the ground to tell the truth?
• Why do chile con queso and chili con carne have different spellings of chile/chili?
• When does a chile become a pepper? [there's that tangent]
• How can someone be pro-abortion and anti-capital punishment? 
• Why do some people blame a bomber but not a shooter?
• Why do some folks go pale at the thought of armed guards in schools but find it perfectly acceptable to have them in banks? Which is more valuable to you?
• Why are Eagle eggs protected by Federal law, yet that same government funds abortions?
• Why do feminists rail about injustices to women here in the US but remain strangely quiet about the savagery inflicted upon women in  certain Muslim countries?
• How is it possible in New York a minor can  choose to get an abortion but not a Big Gulp? Both are choices made concerning her body.
• Does the school that Michelle's girls attend have the same lunch program the Michelle rammed down the public schools throats?
• Do Americans working in Mexico get a paid holiday for the 4th of July? 
• How many vacations do the Obamas need?
• Is there really a ''Catch 22"?
• Why is it that ''Murphy's Laws'' are simpler and easier to understand than the laws enacted by congress [I left it lower case because of the lack of respect I have for that body!]?
• Is ''My hard drive crashed!" now a viable excuse to the IRS to get out of an audit?

I could go on but I think I'd like to here some comments from all y'all on these. I know that y'all have thoughts like this also, so why don't we share them?

Thoughts

In Flanders Field

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae

I thought this would be a good way to open my blog considering Memorial Day Weekend is just a few days away. Just how many of you really know what Memorial Day is all about? The poem above should be a hint.

These days it seems to be the kickoff to summer, graduations, vacations and the like.  And now, with it just days away, the reeking stench from the VA has cast a shadow over this holiday. And, how we as Americans have allowed our government to treat them as undesirables by withholding care in order to protect the bottom line is also unforgivable.

Our Vets have been denied care that was promised to them when they said, “sleep easy, I’m on that wall and I will keep you safe”. They have become mere names and numbers to a corrupt system that has given more than tacit approval of that which is nothing more than fratricide. The VA has denied and withheld care to our hurt and sick, deciding who will live and who won’t. It has lied to their families and to America. It has cast a stain on America’s honor that won’t easily be removed.

Mr. President, do not feign righteous anger over this. Do not tell me that you just learned of this when you spoke of it as far back as 2008 or did it slip your mind on all your vacations and golf junkets? Do not call yourself their Commander-in-Chief after this betrayal of the very troops that keep us from Harm’s Way.

What you can do, Mr. President is hold someone accountable. By this I mean someone goes to jail, people get fired, and the system is revamped from the top down. I know this won’t happen, as prior scandals have proven. But it’s nice to think that maybe somewhere down the road you discover that Karma can be a bitch.

As a final thought, for any of you that think this is an isolated incident, ponder this: this is the same government that now controls YOUR Healthcare. Kinda frickin’ scarey now, ain’t it?

I been gone a while but this hit me hard and it jump started me back into Stirrin' the Pot.So, look out for further musings, rants and whatever else pops into my head.One favor here, if you like this, please share it with family and friends and do not ever forget these words....

We the People.. 

God, don't y'all love the sound of that? Let's not lose them!

Thanksgiving Memories

 Well, Jane has the turkey in  the oven and the aroma is intoxicating. I'm watching the Texan's game and I'm thinking about a lot of Thanksgivings from times past. From the time I spent thanksgiving on Guam with some shipmates to the ones that bring back my fondest memories; the ones I spent at my Grannie's.
 I am the product of two families. My parents divorced very early and I grew up with two dads. Not in the way it's spoken of now, but with two men of thought of as my dad. My Grannie was my father's mother and her house was the gathering place for the Carter family for most holidays. At any given time, there would be a mess of them there for no other reason than it was Grannie's. But come Thanksgiving, it would be packed from one end to the other with family. Grannie had seven children and all but one had kids, so there were plenty of cousins, and aunts and uncles, not to mention friends who would drop by. 
 Thanksgiving there for me would begin on Wednesday afternoon when school would let out. I'd have my suitcase packed and mom would drop me off at the bus station for the two hour bus ride from Bowie To Electra. I started doing that when I was about six years old. (Anybody feel safe letting your six year old travel alone on a bus for two hours these days?) Sometimes someone would meet me but most times I just lugged my suitcase and hoofed it to her house. I could always smell it from the corner. The aroma of pies would make my mouth water. Add to it, I'd hit town about supper time and be ravenous for some of her cooking. After supper, we'd start setting the tables up, the long table up front and the kids tables in the back. The long table by the time we got the glider stand and door off the front bedroom and used for an extension would seat nearly 30 people. the card tables would then hold the kids in the back room off the kitchen. The average head count back then was around thirty ans have seen nearly fifty be there. 
  Now,Grannie and my Aunt Willene didn't do all the cooking, it was a family style pot luck where every family brought something. Dad always brought something he smoked or barbecued which was either a big sirloin roast or a ham.I kid you not, I've seen three turkeys, a couple hams and a roast on the table and every vegetable imaginable, including a pot of red beans(this is Texas after all.) before the meal, we'd all gather for the blessing round the big table so my uncle Jr. would say the blessing. It was a Baptist blessing and I swear he was trying to pray those turkeys into heaven. He and I were the Baptists in the family, the rest were Methodists if you get my drift. Then we'd load our plates and settle in for a family meal.
  After the meal while the women cleaned, covered the leftovers, and set out the pies; the menfolk would claim  the card tables for games of Spades and the domino game. Now Carters are not what you'd call competitive, Carters play for blood in anything we do. And the domino game was watched by all us kids as long as we were quiet. The teams usually consisted of my cousins Tommy and Don, Dad and my Uncle Edward and my Uncle Jr and his son Larry. Tommy and Don had grown up together and were the team to beat. The yelling from the tables along with the laughing, taunting and occasional cuss word or ten could be heard down the street. Once, when I was there on leave while in the Navy, I had to sub for my dad as Edwards' partner. I'm a fair player,  but  nowhere in their league. After a very poor play of mine that cost us the game, Edward chucked his last domino at me, catching me right between the eyes, then cussed dad for not teaching me to play better. Lesson learned: Never bring fives without blanks. Tommy nearly fell out of his chair laughing. Good times.
 My Grannie is gone now along with my dad and all his brothers and sisters. A few cousins have passed also. They may be gone, but my memories of them are still here and strongIf I close my eyes, I can still see them; circled round grannie in her rocker as we all watched and rooted for out team, the Dallas Cowboys playing the Thanksgiving Day Game. Like I said earlier, Good times.

Happy Thanksgiving Y'all

Adele

 You ever notice than when you ask a Liberal who inspired them or or helped to mold their character, it's always someone great or esoteric such as Ghandi, The Dalai Lama, Kennnedy, Mao... and so on. 

  As all y'all know, I'm no liberal, so I'd like to tell you about the second greatest influence in my life[after Mom], my maternal grandmother, Adele.

 Now mind you, Adele wasn't your regular run-of-the mill Grandma.  I don't ever remember the smell of cookies coming from her kitchen or chicken fryin for Sunday dinner. I do remember sitting quietly as a very young boy waiting for her to finish her first cigarette and cup of coffee, before I could talk to her.

Adele, okay from here on out, I'm just gonna call her Granmda because that's how I remember her. Grandma was a strog-willed person and very opinionated and lived her life accordingly. She was very  big on manners, attire and rules.

Grandma was a firm believer in manners. God help you no matter who you were if you replied with words such as yeah, huh or a uh uh, nope, etc.  It was yes ma'am, or no ma'am. I don't mean just family, I mean everybody. I have sat next to her in diners and coffee shops and watched her "counsel" a waitress for using those words when taking her order. She was never rude about it, but would get her point across very quickly.

Grandma was big on appearance also. When I was a boy playing football in school, I was allowed from time to time to stay with her in town to keep mom from havin to drive into town after practice all the time. Wellsir, before going to bed, I'd have my clothes laid out the next day, and boots polished and she'd check them along with my homework, which she would go over for neatness as well as being correct. To this day, I still like my shirts and jeans starched and when I go out my boots are done and hat brushed.

She had her rules, too. Not a lot of them, but the one I remember most was no hat on in the house. To this day, I can't wear a hat indoors. Even with cowboy etiquette allowing you to wear if no safe place for it, I'll hold it in lap or hang on my knee. She allowed us 15 seconds to take it off after comin inside. I never was sure what would happen after 15 seconds because I didn't want to know.

Earlier, I told you Grandma wasn't your regular grandmother. She was one of a kind, When most grandmothers would be cookin, bakin, and such as; Adele ran a bar. And it really wasn't a bar, it was as we say in Texas, a beer joint. Nope it wasn't a pub, people it was a beer joint. And in this beer joint, she catered to mostly oilfield workers and cowboys. Now Adele  had her rules in there, too. No fights, no touching the help(my mom) and no feeding the kid in the playpen by the jukebox(me).  Ever wonder how she enforced those rules with out a bouncer in one of the rowdiest places in Texas? Sheer force of will.

Okay, let me tell u about the one thing in my life that has shaped and influenced my thinkin and actions to this day. When I was about 10, Mom got real sick and was confined to bed and in and out of the hospital. My stepdad was on the road a lot and without a thought to anything, Grandma quit, packed up moved to Bowie and moved in to take care of us. She took a job in a laundry, because Bowie was dry, and  when she wasn't workin, she was taking care of  me and my sisters. She even cooked! Up till then, I had no idea she used a burner for anything but lighting a cigarette. She never complained, she just moved in and took over. I asked her once why she did it, and she replied, "Eddie, that's truly the dumbest question you have ever asked. Family takes care of their own. We don't need to rely on nobody but family". All I could say was, yes ma'am.

 She's been gone a while,but she has a special place in Heaven. I like to think it's right next to Peter at the gate makin sure people look presentable before thu the Gates, lookin presentable and I guarantee you, there's a hat hook close by.

Happy Birthday Grandma!!

Cooking With The Pioneer Woman

 As all y'all know, I love to cook and have amassed quite a collection of cookbooks from all over ranging from The New York Times' to Paula Deen's. I read them as a bookworm would a novel or a musician would a book of sheet music. To be honest, I look at cooking as an art form which allows an individual an opportunity to express themselves. There are as many cuisines as there are genres in painting or music. And I love to try out recipes from my cookbooks and add my twist to them much as a musician would when playing.
 Now one of my favorite cookbooks isn't even mine. It belongs to my wife, Jane. However, I did get it for her and even sent it to the author who was kind enough to autograph it and mail it back to me in time for Christmas; so I don't feel bad about borrowing it from time to time.
The author of this book is none other than Ree Drummond, The Pioneer Woman. 

  For the few of you who might not know who she is,  she's a wife and mother who happens to help her husband run a working cattle ranch up in Oklahoma along with being an author and star of her own cooking show. I've tried several of her recipes and found them to be delicious... In fact I've used some of her methods for food prep and it has really made a difference in  the texture and how it tastes.

What makes her book one of my favorites is the fact the she uses what's available and does most of her shopping in a small town grocery store.And, one of her favorite ingredients is butter. If a little is good, then more has to be better? My kinda thinking.Her recipes are simple yet very tasty and very filling. She has all different kinds of recipes in her books, but I'm drawn to the "Stick to Your Ribs Food" recipes. You know, the kind of food that will get you to the next meal without your stomach thinkin' your throat's been cut. A meal that will let you do a day's work with feeling famished. If you've ever worked cattle and been in the saddle from breakfast till dinner, or any other kind of hard physical labor, you know a watercress and cucumber sandwich isn't going to cut it. 

 I'd like to share some of her recipes that have really been favorites that not only were delicious but very simple to make. I'm gonna just tell about them starting with:

Breakfast: Her Blueberry Pancakes are awesome to say the least. Very simple to throw together and delicious. Couple them with some sausage and eggs and you have a serious meal on your hands.

Dinner: Comfort Meatballs are filling, tasty and easy to make... Ever mixed milk with your hamburger?? You need to try it once before turning up your nose. It gives it a whole new texture and works well as a binder.

Sunday Dinner or Supper: Ree's Perfect Pot Roast... the name says it all. Her roast has a depth of flavor from one of the cheapest cuts of beef you can buy. Add the obligatory root vegetables and you got yourself a Sunday Dinner that will be a regular on your table.

I do think it would be fun and educational to share a kitchen with her and see what we could concoct. Be a lot like like a musician "jammin' with Willie", but  I heard he uses a different blend of herbs. Who knows, her being from Oklahoma, she might like some real Texas Style Barbecue.

 Well, there you go, a cookbook that even the most inexperienced cook can use and recipes that will make you a hit and hero with your family.. Oh, did I mention my wife, Jane has also tried some of her recipes with some successes and some that didn't quite turn out the way she had expected... But, as in life, it happens to all of us from time time to time... All we can do is just keep trying... Soup's on...

Oh, on a closing note, if you'd like to read about Jane's trip down recipe road just  click!

Click Here

The Factory Worker’s Kids

          We had finally done it. For years we had rented, but now we had managed to put enough away to buy our first home. Mother had worked off and on at the slacks factory for a few years but it had only been when we had needed some extra money. Now she had decided she would go to work full time there to help with the house payment. Ours was a small town and the only opportunities for women to work were either as a waitress or in the slacks factory. Mom had a god reputation as a worker so she was going in as an inspector.

          We were a pretty close family and mom had always talked to us  like were adults so she flat told us that this was very important and let us know she couldn’t be coming home to settle squabbles and we would have to handle a lot of things ourselves. You see, the factory’s management felt that once there you were theirs. If you were a minute late you were docked a quarter hour’s pay. And if you were late too often, or if you had to leave early much, then you were gone. Like I said there weren’t many jobs for women and for every job in that factory, there were five women waiting to get on. We understood all too well what mother had said to us. If she lost her job, we could lose our home.

          So it rocked it along smoothly for a while and we worked a lot of things out among us as to who would do what. But one day at school it changed suddenly. We were at school one afternoon at recess when my buddy found me and told me my little sister had hurt herself on the swing. She was only six and had fallen out and hurt her wrist. I ran over to see what had happened and when I got there I was thankful no teacher had shown up. She was sitting on a swing and holding her wrist like it was broken. I looked at it and couldn’t see much swelling and she could move her fingers, so that was a good sign. I asked her if she would be okay till we got home and we could take her to the doctor then. I knew she wanted to call mom and she could only nod because it hurt so badly, but she agreed to wait. So my other sister and I took turns sitting with her. My other sister was only 8 and I was 10 at the time and knew we had to keep that wrist from swelling so a bunch of us got our cartons of milk that we got every afternoon and used them to try and keep the swelling down. Then my sister sat there and held her till I could get back to her when school let out for me.

          You see we knew we couldn’t tell the nurse, because she would have to call mom and mom would drop everything to come to town and take her to the emergency room. And we din’t want to lose our home. We had helped to paint it. We had helped build the fence around the pasture for our animals. It was our home and we wanted to keep it so badly we would have done anything. So my little sister sat there holding her arm while my other sister sat there with her. Some of our friends gave their milk to help too because some of their mom’s worked there and we all knew the cost of our moms leaving their job. So we helped each other and kinda looked out for each other whenever we could. Well she managed to make it till the bus picked us up and took us home. By the time we got home you could tell she was hurting bad so we got her inside the house and started icing down her wrist. By the time mom got home from work and picking our other sisters, my sister’s wrist was starting to feel better from the ice. Mom took one look at it and loaded her into the care and rushed her to town.

          She was gone quite a while so while waiting we had started supper and we were doing our home work when we heard the car pull into the drive. I knew that there were going to be words when mom got in after I had seen the look on here face as she got out of the car with our sister. So I sent Lee Anne off with our younger sisters and waited to face the music. And, from the look on her face, I knew I was in for it. “Why didn’t you have them call me? How could you let your sister hurt like that? Her arm could have broken. Would you want to sit there and hold your arm all afternoon like that?” she demanded. “Well, answer me”, she said. “We didn’t want to lose our home”, I told her. “What do you mean?” “Well, we were afraid if you came to town the factory would fire you and we would lose our home”. You know I was ten years old and had seen my mother cry only once before, but she just collapsed into a chair and broke down completely saying over and over between wracking sobs that no house was worth this. But I put my arms around her and told her that we had done the best we could and I was ready to be punished for not calling her. She just looked at me through those tear filled eyes and just smiled and said my punishment was to go into the kitchen and get my sisters a piece of cake and to get a piece for myself.

          We managed to keep that home for quite a while and from that incident our family grew much closer than most and we still are to this day. Though mom has been gone a while; we are still very close to each other and if one of us needs help, there are five us ready to stand by the one that needs help.

Living In a House Full of Women

Seems like whenever I tell someone that I have five sisters, some look at me with amazement, some with well lack of a better word, pity and well some just find it hard to believe I’m straight!

          Add to that our grandmother lived with us and our dad was gone a lot trying to keep food on the table as a truckdriver, so that ran the total up to seven females and me. Wellsir that kinda made me literally, the de-facto man of the house and that was no easy chore. 

          Most of this will deal with Mom, Grandma, and my three sisters in line after me. I could write volumes about how I was traumatized by being the only male, but it would be a flat out lie. I had it very good growing up. A lot was expected of me but a lot was given to me also. I was expected to look after my sisters and to serve as security for them while on the bus and at school. I’m not sure why, for mom had raised us to fairly independent and to be able to take care of ourselves. Mainly it was to serve as a buffer between my sister right after me and every boy in school that had his eye on her. I had been doing that since a very early age and had doled out several lessons on what happens when you put your hands on one of my sisters.

          But, in spite of all of the bumps bruises and occasionally walking into an unlocked bathroom, I sure did learn a lot from those women and girls. I learned from listening late at night my sisters’ friends talking about boys what they liked and didn’t like and who they liked. Nothing like knowing the lay of the land when out hunting. From my mom, I learned responsibility and respect for women. I learned they weren’t the weaker sex after all. I also learned from my mother how to dance, throw a baseball, how to ride a bicycle and sit a horse. From my Grandma Adele, I learned manners, and how a gentleman should speak and act. Grandma was big on manners and etiquette. A man removes his hat when in the presence of a lady and when coming inside. She installed what I like to call the “Fifteen Second Rule” which boils down to I had about 15 seconds to remove my hat or get slapped out from under it. Grandma was big on tough love, but you never could find anyone who would say a word against her. To this day, I can’t bring myself to wear a hat or cap in the house. Jane has hung hooks by the door, in our bedroom and in my den so I will always have a place to hang my hat.

          I have also been desensitized when it comes to feminine hygiene products. I can walk into any store and buy anything a woman might need without batting an eye. How many you fellers can say that? I have been given an inside look at how the female mind works from a multi-generational viewpoint and have learned one thing, it didn’t help a bit.Like the rest of the men on this planet, I’m still a lost gosling when it comes to fathoming the female mind.

           

And They Call it Football?

   I used to think that the "Europeanization"(my word) or Liberalization of America would come from either the government ot all the libreal educators in this country. Boy was I wrong! It's coming on all the soccer(football?) fields across the country.
   I have tried and tried to wrap my head around this game. forget the strategies and nuances, I can't even grasp the basics. I mean my gosh, I have no idea what's going on. Guess I'm too old and set in ways to  understand a game that a miss is cheered.
   So, in order to see if I might understand the game better, I thought I'd note all the diferrences between soccer( sorry, I can't bring myself to call it football) and football. Now mind you I'm talkin bout kids playin' here so bear that in mind.

• The Basics (as I see it): In football, you run a set of plays to move the ball. In soccer  the team runs  up and down the field kicking to one another will-nilly.
• Uniforms: In football, you wear pads and everbody has the same uniform. In soccer, the  team wears shorts  and the goalie has on a diferent shirt?
• Team names: Football- Rams, Lions, Raiders, Bears, Etc. Soccer- Wind, Breeze, Storm, Etc.
• Player Nicknames: Football- Hacksaw, Moose, Bubba, Etc. Soccer( I swear to God I'm not making this up)- Pookie, Boo-Boo, Sweetie, Baby and there wasn't a girl on either team!
• The Field: Football has an endzone and goalposts. Soccer has a net.
• Football: receiver drops a pass inn the endzone and coach might yank him. Soccer: player makes a kick on goal and misses and everybody cheers?

   It seems like soccer is kinda for lack of a better word,"wimpifyin' " our younger generation.  The coaches don't seem to emphasize winning along with the basics of the game. To me, that should go hand in hand. Why practice and work hard to learn the skills then be told it's not important who wins?
To me, that just drives home what I'm trying to say about all this... soccer is a game for Liberals,where intentions matter more than results. And, if you don't have to worry about losing, then how will you ever know how it feels to win?

Friday Nights Are Back

  Lions, Tigers, Bears.... No it's not the Wizard of Oz; It's football time in Texas again. Bright lights, bands playing, cheerleaders and flag teams rousing the fans and exhorting the team on to victory. Not since the days of Rome and the Colesseium has such a spectacle been seen!
 For the unfortunate many who have never experienced Texas football, I feel for you. Around mid August the fever begins to build across the state with the opening practices under the Texas sun which can reach temps of over 100F by 10am. This rite of passage into the high school warrior class is known as " Two-a-Days".  This is a winnowing process, for the weak and unwilling must be purged and this time honored practice is guaranteed to accomplish it. Only the most willing and the most able will be allowed to set foot on that hallowed ground known as the "Field".
 Practices are run like boot camp. Strict discipline and conditioning are the norm. Conditioning, both physical and mental  are needed to play football in September when temps are still on the 90's.
 As the practices continue, folks come from all around to watch them. Some come to see how the team is progressing, some come to relive their past glories. Whole towns get into the spirit of it. Team colors are worn, schedules are posted in in every business. All talk is about the team and the coach.  There is but one subject in all this, can he take the team to the very end and if not, who can they hire to replace him? All eyes are on the prize; the State Championship, or as we say in Texas,"Winnin' State".
   As you may or may not know,Texas is a mixture of both urban and rural.  For the small towns, football is about all they have since the "oil bidness" petered out and farming has gone into the tank. I have seen whole towns load up to go watch their team in the playoffs, with police volunteering from neighboring towns to watch the town while its deserted. It's a good thing and yet sad in a way. You see  for some boys, this will be the high point of their lives. They will peak at eighteen and this will be all they have. Not much to look forward to 'ceptin a job and a family.
  But, for a magical few months, Texas, on Friday night is lit up with lights in stadiums from Beaumont to El Paso, from Dalhart, to Brownsville. With team names like Eagles, Tigers, Cougars, Longhorns and yes even Kangaroos and Jackrabbits, towns all over Texas are in the spirit and it will build to  fever pitch culminating in that quest for that first rung on the ladder: District Champs... Stadiums will be overflowing with family and fans cheering the home team on with no quater asked or none given. Age old rivalries will be fought on that 120 yard battlefield... memories will be made and dreams shattered. It is an  unforgettable experience. It truly can't be described... But one thing is common to every team in Texas... Each September is the start of a new season and new dreams.

When Did I Grow Old ?

  It occured to me today (not the first time mind you) as I looked in the mirror shaving that I had suddenly gotten old! So, later, as I sat in my den ; I looked back to try and figure when it happened.

It certainly didn't happen that Christmas I got my first pair of boots. Shoot all I could think of then  was when do we eat again and I think I need some  jeans .



I don't think it was in the 4th grade when our only worries were who was going to choose who for sides in baseball. I think there might have been some thoughts about girls during all that. Such as why would any guy want anything to do with them.

It still hadn't happened when I was 15.  It was my freshman year and mainly all I worried about was trying figure a way to drive my algebra teacher crazy and lamenting the fact freshmen are lower than pond scum and no girl wants to be seen with them.

Dont think it was when I turned 18 and had the world by the tail. I was so smart then. A head  full of knowledge and  a mind of mush and no idea what was in store for me. But who cared? Plenty of time in life right?

I don t think it was in the Navy. Nineteen and ready to see and take on the world.

Little did I realize just how big and unforgiving the world can be.  But still  young and bullet proof.

Looking back I don't think it happened when I was rodeoin'. though there were some days I felt real old after a rough night in the arena and a rougher night at the dance after! Not  quite as young, but I realized I  was only average in talent and that could get me hurt bad. Getting smarter, not older.

Might have started happening in my thirties. Seems like as the hair got thinner, the waist got thicker. Age does have a way of creeping subtly upon us when we least expect it. That knee I got from football would pain me some, but it was easy to walk off. But not as easy as it used to be.

Now the forties did have me showin' some wear and tear and feelin' it, too. But it wasn't nothing I couldn't handle. More grey in the hair ( what was left of it), but I could still do all the physical stuff I enjoyed doin, from riding a bike to doing a hard day"s work in the plant. I could still walk a field hunting all day and crush the hand of any of the football players my daughter brought home for me to meet.

Well, I'm in my mid-fifties and  things are still very good. I have had some problems and medical issues, but was fortunate and by Grace of God to have caught them early. I don't run as fast as I used to, but  I have learned running just gets you there a little quicker and walkin' lets  me see more. As I think back on it, I have gotten older. But I still don't think of myself as old. I think if you fight aging, specially the mental part, then you may age without getting old. And, isn't that what we all want to do? In the  words of that Toby Keith song, " I may not be as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was". Well said, Toby.