Austin Campus Murder
Ken Herman at the Austin American Statesman has written a fine piece on the Austin campus murder.
We will let those who want to find it do so, and are mentioning it here because we appreciate great journalism - especially with hard stories such as this one.
And, yes, we wrote to briefly tell him as much.
A moment for Merle.
We didn't appreciate him until we were all grown up, and by then, the bubble gum had stuck to country and we were ready to pay attention.
Merle was sawdust and stardust all in one.
We'll never see the glittering Kern River again without thinking of him kicking out the footlights.
Rest in peace, sir.
Mississippi Burning. Again.
Somebody. Do. The right thing.
This Mississippi law stands to do a lot more than merely not serve people.
There are some folks who were alive when another group of Americans were refused service in restaurants.
Dumb Mississippi jokes are too easy. It's about more than that. But seriously: How do you boycott a place nobody really wants to visit anyway?
We lived in Marietta, GA. where a restaurant owner passed out ax handles to keep blacks out of his restaurant. Was he condemned? No. He was later elected governor of the state of Georgia.
The only thing some people understand is money, so we'd ask those corporations to use all the pull you've got. We'd ask people who aren't gay to make a stand.
We apologize for the complete lack of wit in this post.
But this time? Don't ask who 'we' are because we know we're not alone on this.
Great Moon Landing Conspiracy
A witty, not snarky piece written about the Great Moon Landing Conspiracy. Of all the reptilian-spying, men in black eluding, zany ass theories we've heard, the notion that man did not land//walk on the moon has been among the more difficult to fathom. Because we're not rocket scientists, we were poorly prepared to refute said arguments, either. (Now that the subject has come up, we can't recall a single conspiracy advocate who was, either.)
We doubt it'll lessen the bulging carotid arteries of conspiracy buffs, but now we don't feel quite as gullible for believing, all along, that the Apollo astronauts
walked on the moon.
Let the diatribes begin. (That was figurative, y'all.)
ORCHIDS GONE WILD!
Look at my little floozy!
She has a few more to go but I think I'll have to sew pants for her by then. Mercy.
One Boy's Story
Right now, on this spinning orb of living, dying, joy, suffering - you know: the whole shebang - there are stories that end beautifully, not well at all and everything in between.
We think this one, although beginning in heartbreak, leans very much towards the light. We're sharing it here not to present any agenda or to yank heartstrings. We simply reckon there are folks who come here because, every now and then, some kind of story is between the lines.
Here's to stories and how they change us. Or not.
By the way, without the photos illustrating this particular tale, we might've let it slip past our own psyche. But with them? Rather impossible to ignore.
Thanks for sharing this with us. Sometimes, just looking over at another human and saying, "Did you see that?" makes things stick where they're supposed to.
We got a letter from an old friend today mentioning that we probably knew about his recent difficulties from Googling him. We were struck by the vast number of character defects we still possess, but, mercifully Googling people is not among them.
We used to gossip, but thought of it as more innocent than that. Like we were helping people who weren't in the room. Bullshit: We gossiped. Just because we thought we cared for the person being discussed didn't lessen the nature of what we were doing.
On the other hand, we began to eschew news to the point where we didn't know when folks we cared about passed on. What's a happy compromise? Would what we're saying, doing feel bad if it was directed toward us?
Let's just say things got reeeaaally quiet around here until we learned the ropes. Even now, we see knots in a few...
Sometimes we're astounded at the things asked of us here. As Granddaddy used to say, 'They don't know any better - but you do."
It's easier being outraged on another's behalf. When it's close to home, it just servers as a reminder that we've yet to really fathom one truth: It's never personal. Especially when it seems most so. It's always about that person and where they are in this life. And, as another wise person said, "Being mad at someone means you're letting them rent your brain for free."
Still. We loved those of you who know these things and don't harangue, diminish and, yes, who don't ask personal questions that aren't anyone's business.
You teach us more than you know. Thank you.
"When I was here before"
A friend's child has used the expression, "When I was here before" a disconcerting number of times, and that's just around me. Given the enormous scope of a child's imagination, it's not difficult to presume such "memories" would seem as real as his imaginary friend - which this particular kid claims, as well.
To me, what's striking about his 'before' references is the absolutely dull quality of things remembered. For example, his imaginary friend apparently spearheads great adventures. No such doing with any past life recall.
Once, his adult half-brother, frustrated by his lack of description for said life, asked, "Well, what did you DO??"
He said his little brother seemed to think about the question before saying, "Not much. We had to work all the time and we didn't have TVs and stuff. We saw a cowboy once but he wasn't like one on TV. He was by himself."
Non sequiturs aside, we liked that last statement for all its plainness.
Do we think wranglers traveling solo are proof of past lives? Not at all. But because we subscribe to the chock-full newsletter of PMH Atwater, we knew where to look for accounts of children and such claims.