Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Text Message?

I guess I'm a little old fashioned. Have all these new types of communication really made life easier? Back in the day it was three ways to ask the latest crush out. For the one who was really bashful and tongue-tied, a note left on her desk. For the shy but conversational, there was the phone call, and for the verbose, there was the face to face. These three styles of communication worked well the majority of the time. The reaction was from "Isn't that cute?" to a slap in the face, depending on the pick-up line you used.

Now it seems the face to face has been deemed necessary only during the date. They text, send pictures of themselves, email, and even when everything else fails telephones. I guess a text message would qualify as note. But how impersonal has this become. How well do you know someone by their text message or email? How do you know if this person is as nice as they sound or are they a pervert?

I guess I'm just an old romantic, I prefer the wooing. The holding of hands, the goosebumps when you brush their arm as you walk beside them. The aching of your arm as you refuse to move it even after all blood has left it because it took you so long to work up the nerve to put it around her. The look in her eye when you finally kiss her.

So I'll live in my decade where you opened the door for your lady. You protected her reputation and listened to her wishes. You were obedient to not only your parents wishes, but when her father spoke, you listened.

Ah the good ole days

Friday, August 14, 2009


Back before Beautiful and I were married I was shopping at the local supermarket where I selected:

A half-gallon of 2% milk, A carton of eggs, A quart of orange juice, A head of romaine lettuce, A 2 lb. can of coffee, and 1 lb. package of bacon.

As I was unloading my items on the conveyor belt to check out, a drunk standing behind me watched as I placed the items in front of the cashier. While the cashier was ringing up the purchases, the drunk calmly stated, "You must be single."

I was a bit startled by this proclamation, but I was intrigued by the derelict's intuition, since I was indeed single. I looked at the six items on the belt and saw nothing particularly unusual about my selections that could have tipped off the drunk to my marital status.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I said, "Well, you know what, you're absolutely right. But how on earth did you know that?"

The drunk replied, "Cause you're ugly."

I get no respect................

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Sigel's Summer

Sigel lifted his straw cowboy hat off his sweating head and wiped his face with his bandana. He had a love hate relationship with Oklahoma Indian Territory in the summer. He hated eating the dust off the cattle trail all day, but loved watching God paint a sunset at night. The sun turned his face a dark brown but his long sleeved shirt kept his arms as white as if it were winter. The heat radiated off his paint pony, Jamie, and he knew that it was about time to spell her.

Boss Man rode up next to him, “We’re going to stop early today, there’s a river crossing about a half mile up the way. We’ll bed down there for the night, and get a early go in the morning. This heat is taking too much weight off these doggies.”

“We’ll get’m bedded down,” Sigel smiled, “maybe Cookie could cook something besides beans tonight?”

“Just be beans with some jerky thrown in. He probably don’t even need a fire tonight, them beans probably cooked themselves in this sun,” the boss man laughed.

Sigel tipped his hat and rode off to start the bedding down process, and started thinking. He didn’t like thinking, he always over thought things when he should have just gone with his first instinct. Still, he started making a list in his head as he listed them out loud to Jamie. “Being hot, means the varmints would be prowling in the cooler night hours. Probably be a good idea to ride extra rounds. We’ll wait till after supper to make that call. At least we’re near water tonight, maybe I can grab a bath, upstream from the herd of course. I’ll need to help Cookie fill the water barrels. I’ll need to fill my canteens. Might give Jamie a good bath and rub down too. She deserves it, hauling me around all day. Oh, well, I’d better get busy.”

Summer nights in July doesn’t always bring a cool breeze, tonight was one of those hot, sticky nights that made life on the trail tough. Sigel wasn’t bothered by it though. On quiet nights like this, he could hear Cookie snoring clean across the herd. He would sit in the saddle and let Jamie dose while he looked into the stars and talked with Jesus. He gathered strength from these times and too often his shift would end too soon and he’d lay on his bed roll and continue his conversation with the Lord. His strength came from these times and he was always surprised the next morning on how rested he felt without much sleep. He remember some Bible verse his mama would quote him about how strength came from the Lord, but he didn’t know where to find it. He figured remembering it was just as good as reading it. Remembering it was a way of thinking about it and seeing what God wanted him to learn. Too often, he admitted, he’d read his Good Book and then not think about what it said. Well, he decided, at least I know I'm going to Heaven and I won’t have to spend any time in hell, shoot, don’t know if it could be much hotter than Oklahoma in July.