Travel Day

This morning found us leaving Borger, and heading northeast towards Liberal, Kansas and the land of OZ. From under Hutchison County Texas comes oil and gas, but on top of Hutchison County, a land that once saw immense and seeming endless herds of buffalo, today is a land of huge tractors and fields of grain disappearing over the horizon. To break the monotony of the grain fields, the range lands where cattle roam oftentimes spread from horizon to horizon. Yes, I wax poetic, but it has been a long time since I have written every day, and getting back into the rhythm of things ain't exactly easy when one is as old as yours truly.

The only certainty in this country is the wind. It seemingly never stops blowing, a fact that is confirmed by the unique appearance of the trees as we traveled towards Oklahoma. I remember that winter I spent in Borger nearly a half century ago. The need to wrap newspapers around my body under my clothes to keep the cold wind from penetrating to my very soul. I can only think how very tough these people who live here are. I think of those people, the ones in New York and San Francisco, who belittle and ridicule the beliefs of these hardy souls who live in the panhandle. I wonder who the real Americans are? Yet diversity is what makes us the one country that every other nation looks to. Are we real? Or are we merely dust in the wind of eternity?

Oklahoma! Rogers and Hammerstein got it exactly right, it is truly a grand place, but today we were only spending minutes in the state to which we owe the Life we live. Oklahoma, Phillips 66. They are twins, but out here, out in the western reaches of the state, it is a long ways from those bygone days of gushers and boomtowns. Here the land from horizon to horizon is dotted with farms and ranches. In the distance the occasional wellhead can be seen. This is the land of real people, not the 1% of the big cities, but rather the real people that make up the real America.

Speaking of real Americans, I'll take an Appalachian hillgirl over one of those totally fake and totally worthless big city, wanna be girls any day. Nobody is perfect, but the fact that an Appalachian hillgirl named Linda picked the very best of the very best to be her husband speaks volumes. Hey, it's my blog and I can write what I want. Just remember: Life is not a dress rehearsal. Don't be afraid to laugh, love and retire early. And if you don't know whether you you can fulltime or not, you're right. You can't.

Comments

  1. Glad to see you back Bob. The story of your past was interesting. Linda has more than adequately carried the torch in your absence.

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