 |
| Gravel road by the Jacques |
Well when I was growing up living one mile north and 3 west of Grainola past Vea Harris's house I use to say, "I am not ever gonna live on a gravel road again and won't be back until it was paved". It is sad when a person has to eat their words but I guess that is the case.
I left Shidler for college at Weatherford, SWOSU and thought I would never want to come back. I use to tell folks the only reason I went to Weatherford was because out of 56 in my graduating class I figured 21 went to OSU. I don't remember anyone going to OU and they probably would have been stoned if they admitted it. Rick Hill went to John Hopkin's University or somewhere like that but I am pretty sure it was and that blew me away. I could not imagine or even think of something like that. When Rick went there he raised the IQ in both states (that was a joke cause he was very bright, like a 20 watt bulb, sorry, another joke). Debra Himbury also came up with a college I never heard of, Cottey College in Missouri, go figure that one out. Anyway I am not sure what the truth is but I will give you a few choices: 1) I was going to play football, 2) they gave me a scholastic scholarship, 3) there was a girl there I was interested in, 4) I thought it was a great place to get an education. The best thing that happened there or I should say there were two great things that happened there: 1) I met my wife, Shouna, and 2) I came to know the Lord personally. What about my education? I got one of those as well and luckily a job when I was done.
Well back to the point: I wanted to leave those gravel roads and the Osage only to find myself where ever I went telling folks how great it was growing up in a small town with great folks. Do you find yourself saying the same things? I bragged on how few people I went to school with and how many sports I got to play and how beautiful the sky was and how great the grasslands were and how great my school teachers were and on and on. I longed to get back HOME where life was little slower and people were closer to family than a stranger on a train riding to work in Chicago or driving in Dallas where folks used hand gestures because they liked your driving. For a while I thought I was living in Indian Territory in Dallas and Chicago because they were always giving hand signals, get it? After a few years of seeing the world and catching the airplane to a new city about four times a week I longed to see the sun ups and sun downs in the Great Plains. I longed to see the white/gray dust of driving 70 miles an hour on gravel roads. Fishing on the creek and lying under a big shade oak with giant acorns (not to be confused with Obama and ACORN). One of my favorite comments when I moved home from Chicago by an Okie named Don Tharp was, "I hate this traffic". We were driving through Kingfisher at the time. I laughed myself silly.
So what do you learn in the Osage?
- Things don't look as good in the rear view mirror after you have been gone a while, think about it. Explanation: folks are always leaving something only to find the real value was where they were.
- Things look great in the front view mirror when you are going to the Osage, go visit if you don't believe me
- Home is where your people are, make friends.
Thanks for your time,
gary@thepioneerman.com
No comments:
Post a Comment