The Leafy Glens Of Old Texas

 

It's a beautiful summer Saturday morning in North Central Texas, so what do you do? What you always do, stroll down sylvan streets to the Pick 'n Steal, aka "Gas Station" for a cheap coffee refill. As you do, reflect on the trees and the generous wisdom of the people who planted them.

Good to look at? Yes, beauty's important. Allies? For sure, they turn persynkind's ancient enemy, Carbon Dioxide, into life giving Oxygen. Oh yes, our friends in the War on the Weather, but more than this, they give us shade.

Don't laugh, this is important when the sun sears down like an incinerating laser. Step into the shade of a tree and feel the drop in temperature; trees make the oven bearable, and that's partly why they planted them. Not just for good looks or their facility for hanging criminals, but as a natural cooling system.

That in mind, why did the genius patrol who run this place chop down all the trees leading up to the Square? Yes, they left the Hanging Trees standing at the courthouse but pretty much everything else had to go.  Their roots messed up the sidewalk, they claimed. Chop them down.

why do you hate trees, 1st Baptist?

Net result? A sun blasted parade square of concrete on the approach to the halls of justice. Walk it at your peril. Did someone profit off the replacement of beautiful cooling trees with hideously ugly hot concrete? Surely not. 

Stay Frosty,

LSP

Brothers Morale High

What's this weird rumor, that US PMC people are subcontracting to Wagner? Wild West or 18th C and then some.

Your Old Pal,

LSP

 

Rivers of Texas

 

We had a ranch on the Red River, no more alas, but I get to fish the mighty Brazos and I love that.

All hail Texas,

LSP

BUSTED!

 

A Tahoe screamed around the corner, sirens wailing in the morning heat, a bust in progress but no big deal, happens. Then more sirens, this thing's escalating and I stood up in the front office, aka "porch" to see the action.

Lo and behold, Old D drives by the house, going slow in his beat up Toyota, followed by three more Tahoes full of sound and fury. "Pull over, fella," I thought to myself, "Stop blocking the road and let the cops take out the meth dealer 'round the corner."

D duly turns the corner, pulls into his driveway and bang, the posse screeches to a halt and it's Glocks out, get away from the vehicle! D does this quietly and gets taken to jail, for he was the perpetrator. But what had he done?

Gotten into a crazy verbal with someone at a fast food joint? Accused a random stranger of being in danger of hellfire at the Brookshires? Delivered an end times Alex Jones rant at Tractor Supply before running out on the store with an unpaid bag of cat food? All likely scenarios, but no, it seems his crime was failing to register his vehicle and then failing to stop when the LEO son et lumière began. D was scared and freaked out, apparently.

He's been charged with evading arrest, $5000 bail, and I like the guy. Crazy? Yes. Dangerous? No. In need of help? Most definitely, and I offered to do what I could. In the meanwhile, real, dangerous, evil criminals walk free down the marbled corridors of power, to say nothing of this town's drug dealers.

Look. A Crook

That said, couldn't the above deal have been handled differently?  Especially in a place where people know each other? Well, there it is, and I file this tale of crime and punishment under Country Life in Texas.

Justice,

LSP

Register

 

One of the many benefits of the rural, bucolic Texan haven that is LSPland is that you get to look at local architecture after dropping off the rig for its yearly inspection at Tom's Tire. 

Look how the wooden roof shingles on this derelict have survived. I like that, but you can imagine its price in, say, Toronto, Austin or twin city San Francisco:

note shingles

Roofing reverie over, it's a short stroll along the leafy boulevards of this Texan farming community to the old jail and court house, which was built in the 1890s and admirably protected by steel shutters. Its modern equivalent would be a windowless slab of dun colored brick, pierced by bulletproof slits. My, how we've devolved.

Jail/Courthouse

Regardless, the jail's protected by a fierce junkyard dog and has a Liberty Tree, seeded from an Ash in Eisenhower's home town. And then, before melting in the searing, ovenlike heat of a July morning, you amble over to Montes for a late breakfast.

Fierce Dog!

Montes, now "Ya-Ya's," is blissfully cool, blinded and silent, it's just too hot for extraneous noise. So you sit there checking out Russkie Telegram channels while Ya Ya brings the right stuff. Huevos Rancheros, eggs over easy on corn tortillas with their hot rancheros sauce, refried beans, fried potatoes and homemade flour tortillas. What a feast.

Breakfast Time

Then return to Tom's, pay a massive fee of $7, pick up the truck, spin over to the court house annex where they're spraying the doors with disinfectant because science and register your vehicle. Easy. What a pleasant morning and so much less hassle than doing the same thing in the Metrosprawl.

shadow LSP

Country life forever,

LSP

Cheerio!

 

Yobbos,

LSP

Choctaw Bingo

 

Been there?

LSP

Calm Right Down

 

Think twice before you attack this. And perhaps you remember, "The gates of Hell shall not prevail." GloboHomo take note.

Best,

LSP

A Bit Chilly! For Zendo & LL

  

note cheap freebie glass

It's a bit chilly here in Texas, so maybe this cooling infovid  will help:

See you in Valhalla.

Fenrir,

LSP

Cheap Trick

 

Cheap trick? What, Kamala Harris, our government? No, just the band. Here they are, live at Budokan:

Rock on,

LSP

A Short Sunday Reflection

 

"I say old chap," I announced breezily to the Crucifer as we were getting ready for Mass at Mission #2, "Did you know the gerontocrat in nominal charge of our country has promised us a green, electric military by 2030?"

"No, I did not know that," replied the Crucifer, a retired artillery Captain (Vietnam) and active oil and gas analyst. "Well he has, said so in April on Earth Day. And it's all well and good until they run out of charging stations, what?"

My friend, a practical man who went to Yale when it was still a university, frowned and thought for a moment, "That's easy, they'll just bring up charging trucks with generators. Yes, generators running on gasoline." We chuckled, said our prayers and the Sacred Mysteries were celebrated in good order. 

Not the Crucifer, obvs, just a Texan assisting Mass

You know, not so long ago, back in the aughts, I'd have raised an eyebrow if you'd told me I'd be with a couple of mission churches in rural Texas. But I tell you what, it's been a real blessing and, curiously enough, by far and away the most diverse congregation(s) I've served, certainly the most intellectual.

What a blessing, farmers and ranchers, rodeo stars even, to people who make a living from the life of the mind, who write books as if by muscle memory. And all coming together to worship God as one.

I love that,

LSP

Sic Transit

 

You'll note Imperial Ladies aloft. Regardless, the Corsican Upstart ended his days on an island in the South Atlantic, his vaunted Grande  Armée smashed and defeated at Waterloo. So much for Boney.

His beautiful and gorgeous Empress Josephine died in 1814, a year before her philandering, adulterous Emperor was utterly and irrevocably defeated by the Iron Duke. Her last words, allegedly spoken through black and rotting teeth were, "Bonaparte … Elba … the King of Rome."

There is, if you care to draw it, a moral in this tale,

LSP