A few years ago, I moved to a new town and took a new job, which eventually morphed into a new career.
That town was Sweetwater and the job was working as a staff writer here at the Reporter.
I had always written as a hobby, but I had never worked in the newspaper business prior to my time here. Heck, I wasn't even a journalism major, having studied psychology at a college in upstate New York, where I was born and raised.
Bob and I rarely leave town together. We recently took a weekend to wander to FredericksburgâŠnot for the peaches, the crafts, or the amenities, but to explore the National Museum of the Pacific War. Amazingly, this monument to those involved in the Pacific Theatre of World War II is not a federal facility; it is under the auspices of the Texas Historical Commission. Fredericksburg, as many know, was the birth place of Admiral Nimitz. When he retired, the people of the community wanted to honor him.
Having recently written a fairly pointed column about how the people in Austin are busy working to vote themselves a lot more municipal debt, in the form of bonds, imagine my chagrin when the local city government where I live announced it was going to form a citizens committee to look into having a bond election. Notice that I didn't say "imagine my surprise". Sadly, it doesn't surprise me at all when a municipal government starts asking for a bond election, but I do find it depressing.
When I was growing up, one of the more constant refrains in my household was âhow do you suppose that made ___ feelâ? Admittedly there were times when we were talking about my brothers that I really didnât care how it made them feel, and may have hoped that it hurt, at least a little bit. As a general rule, that question was enough to make me stop and thinkâŠand often modify my behavior.
Tuesday is a special day that will be celebrated around the nation with parades, outdoor concerts, fireworks (where not prohibited and where safe!), and general fun. Honored as the anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, it is one of the few holidays honoring our nation that has not lost its significance. Few people remember the day that the Constitution was finally ratified, or the days that our various wars ended. Fewer people attend Memorial Day and Veteransâ Day services each year.
SummerâŠ that time when people are outside, children racing in and outâŠ the flies come in and the dog gets out. Or, in the alternative, the dog is let out in the morning and allowed to determine its own course until evening. One sure sign of summer is the calls to the courthouse about dog bites.
J'ever notice? Sometimes you catch yourself saying something real "old". One cold morning I told Frances, "I think I'll go crank my pickup." They haven't made pickups that you had to crank since before I was born. I have, however, cranked a couple of welding machines and remember tractors that the grown folks cranked. All of this made me think of stories I have heard about cars "back when."
Have you noticed that suddenly there is even more attention than normal being paid to the whole "climate change" issue? For some reason, this item is getting pushed even harder than before, and since it was already getting pretty much 24/7 airplay, that's saying something.
June traditionally has been the month for brides. From the initial naming of the month (for Juno, the Roman goddess of marriage), to the fact that flowers in the northern hemisphere are at their freshest, to the more recent factor, namely that of starting a new life together following graduation, this month seems to be THE month for celebrating the start of new lives together. The peer and societal pressure to marry in the month of flowers, to go from the graduation ceremony to the alter, the âdreamâ all seem to conspire to push people to marriage.
Yeah, my wife has got some folks all down in there.
That usually means kinfolks, but not always. Sometime, simple country doings are confusing. You know, out way past where the pavement ends and across the dry creek. It's where we talk slow, think slow and move slow. Ya really think that's always right?
Now back to "my wife's folks". No, he is not blood kin to them. He may call his wife's cousin "my cousin" if he is short on cousins, a rare deal hereabouts. Someone may ask if that is his real cousin, to which he may say, "We are cousins across the table."