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Saturday, October 31, 2009

The way the ball bouces...


Well, perhaps the Rattlers were finally outcoached and even rattled a bit Friday night, nobody seemed to be truly composed, as Cameron came in and stole their show. Such a strange turn of events, a really strange game, where both teams made their first touchdowns with their Defense. Navasota fell behind 8-0 in the first 10 seconds of the game, as Cameron stripped the ball on the opening kickoff and ran it in for a touchdown, then had the cajones to go for and get the two point conversion!

Both teams tried stupid tricks that did not work, trying to get an advantage. Navasota finally pulled ahead in the second quarter, making 22 unanswered points, and then... just got shut down. The second Half Cameron came roaring back, and dominated the game. Not a fitting game for such a team as our 13th ranked Rattlers, who started out the season making fairly few mistakes, turnovers, or penalties.

Still the Rattlers are fun to watch, but just like the game with Caldwell, Friday they were more like watching little league. It's hard to say what went wrong. Lost concentration... fragile confidence, perhaps too predictable a strategy. And Cameron came to steal this game if they could. They were smaller, less talented... but they had a disciplined plan and executed it. And the Rattlers were just not in the same kind of game. They were just outcoached.

They are after all, kids.

I was afraid all hopes of making the playoffs were dashed... but perhaps there will be a miracle, if we beat Madisonville we are still in the running I'm told.. If not, it has sure been a fun season anyway.

A sound fit for angels.


It’s not often I can walk a few blocks from my house and post a blog claiming I’ve seen something I’ve never seen before… Jim Kam and his soon- to- be legendary Chapman Stick qualify as unusual and even elevating, and he and his companions are working on an instrumental album that should be that, if not fascinating and perhaps even historic. They are developing a sound that is pushing the limits of my vocabulary, but you know I’m going to take a shot at it. Kam plays his instrument as if he is making contact with another dimension… and it sure sounds as if he is. And it is one we will all long to visit, if not stay indefinitely.

Once again, I’ll skip the rest, and just cover it with adjectives. Heavenly. Mesmerizing. Otherworldish. Haunting, complex, addictive, awesomely beautiful.

You have to hear him for yourself. Friday night he was accompanied by two excellent musicians, singer/guitarists Tom Tranchilla and Buddy Allen, who might have intimidated most performers, both of them strong entertainers in their own right. But the three of them played round robin, letting flow a wonderful evening of songs, at times contrasting and other times finding stunning and almost indescribable harmonies, and Kam’s Chapman Stick often turning a familiar song on its ear and delivering once- in- a- lifetime renditions with musical genius.

At one point, they were playing a blues instrumental, two acoustic guitars giving it all, and this amazing Chapman Stick running ahead, lagging behind, almost playing tag with intricate harmonies, Hell, I don’t know what I’m talking about! But these guys know what they are doing singularly and collectively, and it was sure exciting to watch them share this unique sound at the Corner Café.

It is rare to witness this kind of virtuosity, anywhere. For me to be able to hear it a few blocks from my house… let’s just say I’m having a ball, and you are missing out. I think almost all of Navasota is so busy being busy, that people are letting incredible, once- in- a- lifetime opportunities slip by, history being made down the street, and never stopping for a moment to notice how special your town, or your cultural surroundings are.

Those of us that are there however, are determined to enjoy it enough to make up for the rest of you!

Thursday, October 29, 2009

The most beautiful place in the world.


Here's a precious tip, if you are needing a road trip. I've traveled around some, and studied this Earth for its most beautiful places, and still, after all, McKittrick Canyon in far west Texas is the most overwhelmingly, stunningly beautiful area I have ever photographed. The best time to visit will be soon as the maple leaves turn, and the Guadelupe Peaks turn into a combination of Yosemite and Vermont in the autumn. OUTSTANDING!

I know, you thought I was going to say Grimes County...

He Is There by Russell Cushman



1) When the dark gave birth to light,
And this world began to spin,
He was there.
When Adam learned wrong from right,
And when Eve covered their skin,
He was there.
When Moses brought down the Law,
And the people were caught in sin,
He was there.
When young David gazed with awe
At the giant that once had been,
He was there.
When Babylon laid Israel waste,
All were captured- left for dead,
He was there.
When the lions refused a taste,
And Daniel’s foes were killed instead,
He was there.

Chorus: He was there, He was there.
In the fiery furnace, He was there.
One day all men will declare,
In the midst, Jesus was there.


2) When John baptized in the river,
A great voice spoke from above.
He was there.
When the lepers made crowds shiver,
And yet were cleansed by God’s love,
He was there.
When they fed the five thousand
With some fishes and some bread,
He was there.
When they betrayed Him in the garden,
A tempting price on His head,
He was there.
When they nailed Him to a tree,
And cruelly taunted and jeered,
He was there.
And when they scorned and finished Him
And the Temples’ curtain sheared,
He was there!

Chorus: He was there, He was there.
Through all these things He was there.
And one day all Israel will share,
Why Jesus was there.


3) When you’re in a deep dark place
And you haven’t got a friend,
He is there.
When you’re caught up in the race,
And can’t make it ‘round the bend,
He is there.
When your job one day feels right,
And you know that you’re so blessed,
He is there.
When the beauty within your sight
Spreads from the East to the West,
He is there.
When problems come in bundles
And block the road you have to trod.
He is there.
When you call upon the angels
And need the mighty hand of God,
He is there.

Chorus: He is there, He is there.
Through all your trials He is there.
And one day your soul will know,
Always, Jesus is there.

4) When this world comes to its end
And all His sheep are called on home,
He’ll be there.
And all those godless human whims
Collapse and melt like sea foam,
He’ll be there.
When all those who reject Him
Are dumped for Eternity,
He’ll be there.
When the Elders cast their crowns
And all the angels bow down,
He’ll be there.
And when the Lamb is given the scroll,
And He opens the Seven Seals,
He’ll be there.
And then, when His Kingdom comes
And every soul falls to their knees,
He’ll be there.

Chorus: He’ll be there, He’ll be there.
For you and all these things, He’ll be there.
On that day, all His sheep know,
That He promised! Jesus will be there.
Chorus: He was there, He was there.
Through all these things He is there.
And one day all Israel will share,
And He’ll be there.

He’ll be there.
He’ll be there.
Will you meet Him?
He’ll see you there.
He is there… The Great I Am
and He is there.

Monday, October 26, 2009

More shots of our bah itchin' music scene!










We have been so fortunate to see and hear great musicians right here in Navasota, in the past few months, and the images they create have been almost as memorable. True, some are a little "autistic" since I don't use a flash, but I'd rather capture the lighting and colors... sometimes thatsacrifices sharpness... But l@@k at what has been going on here! Look! And I got to see and hear every freaking bit of it, and I still can't believe it!

The Navasota Music Scene... looks pretty important on the Internet!









A bunch of you guys have asked for more photos of yourselves being famous, so I thought I would just put them here and you can get what you want. These are of Jon Hogan and Maria Moss, of Houston, with hats, and Navasota's John and Lise McNally, without hats.

Just click on the photo you like and it should get HUGE. Right click on it and you should be offered a chance to "save photo" and you can send it to your own hard drive. Let me know if this does not work for you...

The Forever Place by Russell Cushman



1) This world’s an eternal sea
O’ downtown parking lots,
A silent Gray Harbor, full o’
Tethered, unmanned yachts.
Of halls with doors all locked,
Cultures gone without a trace.
But my soul’s yearnin,’ searchin’
for belonging; my forever place.

2) This town’s never gonna fit,
Never feel like my home.
Guess I’ll never get used to it,
But I know I’m not alone.
It’s just a testing ground,
You’ve got to run your race.
Each of us has to find
our own forever place.

Chorus: My Forever Place,
My own Forever Place,
When will my heart find rest,
My Soul’s Forever Place.

3) I travelled this ol’ world over,
Lookin’ for my home.
Just wanted some spot on
This earth, I could call my own.
But it was never meant to be,
An eternal wild goose chase.
Then I came to know Jesus
And His Forever Place.

Chorus: My Forever Place,
My own Forever Place,
When he came into my heart,
I found my Forever Place.

4) It’s not on the corner,
Not on the Great Divide.
But He’s prepared it just for you,
If you’re ready for the ride.
Yeah, everybody needs their
Own earthly, personal space.
An’ after we’ve messed it up,
He’s made our Forever Place! Thank God!


Chorus: My Forever Place,
My own Forever Place,
When I walked into His heart,
I found my Forever Place.

5) Jesus walked these lost streets
To gather up His own. He said:
“In my Father’s House
Are many abodes,
I would have told you,
If it were not so.”
Just let go and feel His Grace,
An’ find your own Forever Place!

Chorus: Your Forever Place,
Your own Forever Place,
Walk into His heart,
Into your Forever Place.


6) This world’s an eternal sea
O’ downtown parking lots,
A silent Gray Harbor, full o’
Tethered, unmanned yachts.
But now this doesn’t bother me,
I’m just lookin’ for His face,
Cause now I know my home,
my own Forever Place.

Chorus: My Forever Place,
My own Forever Place,
When I walked into His heart,
I found my Forever Place.
My Forever Place,
My heavenly Forever Place,
Someday we’ll walk into His heart,
An’ find that Forever Place!

Forever Place,
For ever Grace,
For ever and ever place,
Amen.

Sunday, October 25, 2009

The human spirit.


Whenever I get to feeling sorry for myself, I have an automatic newsreel that plays in my head. It mercilessly shows me people I have known or heard about, who overcame great crippling handicaps to live fruitful lives. I have a lot of these reminders anyway, as some members of my family always feel compelled to send me those calendars made by artists that have to paint with their toes. Life is full of everyday heroes like that, but we too often take them for granted. Certainly my Grandmother Cushman heads that list. I have written a song on this blog dedicated to her named Gulf Coast Queen, but there is another side to her even more inspiring. She suffered a paralyzing stroke before I was born, and was not supposed live long enough to see me. But she did and lived many years more, always exercising, pushing her body to adjust, fighting back several times after devastating strokes took their toll. She taught us all what reserves of strength and endurance are within the human spirit.

But it is Sammy Sauls, the father of a friend of mine, whom I want to tell you about. His may be one of the most inspiring stories I know.

Sammy Sauls was born on Navasota in 1919, and grew up like most Black kids in Texas. His was a life of Segregation, persecution and limited ambition. Navasota was a rough and tumble town, where gamblers, prostitutes and petty criminals were more at home downtown than proper folks. There were few desirable jobs, and most Blacks worked in the cotton fields, or in town at the cotton gin or the cotton seed oil mill. Sammy had his fill of these things, and when a few of his buddies, cousins and his brother decided to hop a train and ride to Arizona, he agreed to go along with them. There was a war on, and the word on the street was that Blacks were more easily recruited there than in Texas. Joining the Army sounded like a glorious alternative to life in Navasota.

When the train came barreling by, the boys all did what they had done many times before. But this time would be very different for Sammy. As he leaped for the blurring grips on the train, he slipped, and fell underneath its mammoth steel wheels. Both of his legs were lost in an instant. Ready to give his life for his Country, Sammy Sauls gave up his limbs on the railroad track just outside of town, probably the first casualty of the war.

His companions bound his legless stumps with tourniquets made of bailing wire, to keep him from bleeding to death, and headed for the hospital. In those days, at a humble local clinic, surgery was almost barbaric compared to today’s standards and Blacks sometimes had trouble getting treatment. But Praise God, on this occasion, Sammy was taken in to the emergency room and miraculously saved. He had lost a great amount of blood, but the Great Physician was not through with him.

Eventually artificial legs were made and attached to his stumps, one at the knee, the other at mid thigh. He worked with them until he could walk anywhere. He learned to drive, work, and make whatever adjustments necessary to prosper during a wartime Depression.

Sammy got married, lived a full and fruitful life, and became known around Navasota as the best tailor in town. He became a master with the electric sewing machine. People knew him as “Uncle Sam,” and he was known to be a mighty man from the waist up. He fathered ten children. He raised every one of them to have a ready smile, fierce independence and to never offer excuses. He provided for them well, in tough circumstances, and brought them up to be survivors and providers as well.

When the family played baseball, he would pitch. He could not field bunts or grounders, but he did not need to. He had such strong arms, from lifting his own body weight around constantly, that his arm muscles looked like huge thighs. Few people could bat against him. Of course, there is no telling which was more unnerving, batting against a legless man, menacingly jerking and scowling, or the dangerous speed at which his pitches came at you.

Sammy taught his children the kind of determination that it takes to have success. He had no legs, but that never seemed to really matter. His sons saw him lift, hurl and throw with amazing power and accuracy, always an unsurpassed testimony to the human spirit. He never wanted sympathy, and rarely gave out any. The only thing he could not do was run. But he was fast, and was known to nab a child in need of correction with lightning speed. He maintained the uncanny personal power to effectively summons his children, even if they knew punishment awaited. They knew if they ran, they better just keep on running. He feared no man. He was respected by everyone. As powerful as he was, he always had a sense of humor, and was known as a clever story teller, and loved a good joke.

Sammy Sauls raised a football dynasty. Many of his sons were talented football players. Each measured strength and power and endurance and victory by their own father, not by some abstract idea in a coach’s mind. But no matter how big and strong they got, they never could take him while arm wrestling. They never saw him back away from a challenge. They never saw him lose. Whenever there was work to be done, Sammy outworked his whole brood. He passed away in 1996, but they still speak of him today as a sort of Black Paul Bunyan. Whatever it was, he had taught himself how to overcome and achieve, and he left that spirit in his children.

Someone once carved the little crutch you see at the top for him. Made of bois d’arc, or something very hard, it was once painted red, and that has just about all worn off. Today it is a most cherished possession of one of his sons, who proudly brings it out as if it were the family crest. And in a way it is much better, much more meaningful than that. It is a daily reminder to keep on trying, to never give up, and to never make excuses for yourself. And no matter how tough it gets, never lose your joy for living, the ability to play some baseball, or go fishing, or just have a few laughs with your friends and family.

A special thanks to Johnny Sauls for sharing his memories with me about his father Sammy Sauls over the past twenty years. I feel like I almost know him. If you’re like me, you wish you had.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Yippee KYE eye yeh!


The Navasota Rattlers did it again Friday night, shutting down and shutting out the Taylor Ducks 44-0, once again proving that on a good night, they are the best High School football team in Texas. I have missed the last two games, one of which was a strange incident in Caldwell where a team of imposters showed up, passing themselves off as the Rattlers and proceeding to get spanked 14-0. Then the next week the Rattlers were able to fill their uniforms once again and handily upset 5th ranked Rockdale, thus saving their hopes of making it to the playoffs. Let's hope they can keep those posers out of the dressing room from now on.

Navasota fans had to drive almost all the way to the I-35 Corridor to enjoy their latest massacre, as the Rattlers blew the hapless Ducks out of the water. That drive turned out to be the hardest drive of the game...

Once Again Navasota QB Kye Hildreath ran, yippee kye eye yeh, passed and punted his way into Navasota football history, making winning almost boring... but many fans sat through the cold till the bitter end, not wanting to miss any of his displays of athletic prowess. Poor Taylor seemed to be unable to score against our brutal Defense, even when handed ideal field position by the refs.

All in all, it was a more messy game than those I have seen this year, with a few too many unnecessary penalties, especially since they were never even threatened by Taylor. It was good to see some of the second string get to play, and our Band, Diamonettes, Mascot and Cheerleaders all looked great, and made everyone feel the drive was well worth it, even if the game was one sided, as several have been.

Looking across the field at the sparsely distributed Taylor fans, evacuating fairly early in the game, scoreless and sad, it reminded me of a tirade I got on about Hearne earlier in the season... The little town of Taylor has so much going for it, like Hearne, good geography and natural beauty.. but very little School PRIDE. Fair weather fans are so missing the point. We'll never be Hearne, and never be Taylor either! Let's all agree, that if and when we ever have a not-so-strong season as we have enjoyed the past few years, lets always be loyal to and proud of our kids, and show it, no matter what! Next week: Cameron!

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The more things change, the more they don't...


When I suggested following a couple of early American diaries, I was convinced we would find that we are very much the same people we were 150 years ago. Or at least we are still struggling with many of the same questions about society and morality and relationships. A teen-aged daughter of a man who was a prominent District Court Judge in Louisiana, My ancient cousin Margery Cushman was ending her first journal in the last entry… and starts off her new one with this greatly abbreviated [by me] essay about a common human ill…


Oct 22, 1853
This being the first leisure time I have had since the arrival of this book, I will take advantage of it and commence with my journal. My first one is written completely through, a great deal of nonsense I admit, but never the less I will keep it to see what improvement I will make in this… I have a composition I wrote for last Wednesday…

…To slander is to injure by false reports maliciously uttered and this evil propensity is peculiar to a great many of the human race, not only to the ignorant and debased but to those who have educational advantages, and from whom better is expected. But few there are who are entirely exempt from this evil which will prevail.

“When almost every passion fails
Which with our very dawn began
Nor ends but with our setting Sun.”

…In many the seeds of this most despicable fault are sown by merely gossiping, or discussing the good and bad qualities of their neighbor’s character, while in others it is manifested in the early days of the their childhood, and but grows with their growth, and strengthens with their strength. It is a fault condemned by everyone, even the unfortunate possessors of it, but by no one is it more so than by Shakespeare. He says “One doth not know how much an ill word may empoison liking,” and also that “be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou cannot escape slander,” which is all too true. It is indeed like a noxious weed, that can choke the soil, and spoil the fairest of flowers…

Sunday, October 18, 2009

John Hogan: One more time... with ATTITUDE


It was another night at the Corner Cafe and I told myself, I have written way too many laudatory reviews for anyone to ever consider me anything but a local suck schmoozing for beers. I came into the performance by Jon Hogan and Maria Moss ready to hack them up. It was a matter of journalistic objectivity, my artistic integrity. They looked like two likely victims, a couple of big city wanna-be’s out trying to act like real talent where nobody knows the difference. I sharpened my pen.

Hogan, a wisp of a man, made my cynicism easy; I could probably take him later if I had to. You know, to defend my artistic integrity. Moss looked like… well, Ruth Buzze’s sister, some poor bag lady Hogan might have saved from a homeless shelter, who had kept her mother’s clothes, vintage hat and all. Either they were going to be laughable, or they had to be really good. I had found just what I was looking for, to re-establish my credibility. But quite inconveniently, they did not fit the bill. Once again, I must say, damn, where was the crowd that should have been there to witness such an extraordinary concert.

And it is just as well, when Maria Moss unwound and stepped off of the stage, all six foot of her, (or so,it seemed!) I felt... let's just say I felt like I should be very respectful... "Nice hat..." And then, it turns out the handsome stranger in the crowd was her husband. So I got a Shiner and started taking pictures.

I say Damn! Hogan and Moss were… I’m going to have to leave out everything but adjectives… Exhilarating… Fun, Heartbreaking, Wild, Crazy, Epic, Microcosmic, toe-tapping, head-nodding, gut busting, Soul searching, Wow, I can’t believe I’m in Navasota stupendousness.

John Hogan is a blast. He was born to entertain. If he had no audience, he would play to the forest. He just loves to sing. In fact, I have not heard such sheer joy in singing since my all time favorite, Rusty Wier, who was known to just haul off and half-yodel and laughingly holler for awhile. Hogan sings with happy abandon and sometimes seems to forget that the song even has an ending, or else he can’t stand to pinch it off, and everybody is just nodding and smiling with him. When he gets exhausted he turns the controls over to his co-pilot, Maria Moss who carries the musical journey until he gets back the air in his lungs, and then he might go another verse. It was exhausting to just watch them. What a gift.

By the end, they had made us live an extra year of our lives in a couple of hours. They made us love them... even their clothes... That's what genius does.

And all of this, just two blocks down from my house. It is such a great privilege to live at the center of the Universe. And thanks to Jon Hogan and Maria Moss for landing their magic carpet here, and sharing their song. If this is any sign of things to come, I’m not going anywhere!

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Great songs are always in Season.


Season Ammons came to play. It was Friday night, her husband was watching the kids back at the house, and she would not be denied. Whether six or sixty, she was going to give this lucky Navasota audience an art moment as authentic as the coolest coffee bar in San Francisco. An elite but select group sat in near reverence as she delivered up one soulful original after another. The songs, many of them refreshingly honest, were inspired by some facet of her life, or even some of her bravest fantasies. They sounded intelligent, gutsy, even sensual, but Season stood and delivered them effortlessly as if they were a casual conversation.

Like her songs, Season is 100% original, and a very decent guitar picker, and I cannot help but draw some comparisons so you can appreciate your own need to hear her perform. Try if you can, to imagine a voice as tough and yet womanly as Tanya Tucker, as edgy and sophisticated, and at times as jazzy as Billie Holliday, but as relevant as today’s mail. And then that voice being poured like warm honey all over you. In the end, the only thing missing from the moment were CD’s made available at the door, to run those sweet, sensitive, fearless vocals by, one more time, to make sure I heard what I heard. Many of her songs have such a familiar, powerful ring, your brain instinctively tells you these “ought to be classics someday.” Perhaps not being able to satisfy that sudden personal need to acquire a recording of her impressive quiver of songs, and take the music home, makes the performance so much more a treasure.

So Season came to play and to give her all, and own the crowd, and she did. Someday, if there is justice in art, it will be a larger crowd in a major city worthy of her important talent. The Corner Café in Navasota will just be another little place where she humbly honed her performing skills, before the inevitable deservedly happens. Yes, you could say we were smitten. Anyone who enjoys hearing good songs, passionately sung by their own writers, will want her to do what she comes to do, and to just keep on playing.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Rusty Wier sings good bye...


Another of my favorites, but never thought of it this way...

Country Style
By Rusty Wier

1) The time has come for partin’
Our happy days are gone.
The things we learned together
Are gonna help us both along.
A lonely road of findin’
What fulfills our souls.
It’s a long, long road that’s windin’
You know it takes its toll.
For love’s not just receivin’
It’s a givin’ in return.
I found what I was lookin’ for
Now wait here, wait here till ya learn…

2) We talked it out, we both can see,
That neither was fulfilled.
Our love jus’ wasn’t strong enough.
It didn’t fit the bill. So you wander
down your own road honey.
I’ll try to wander mine.
If our roads should cross again,
It’ll be at a better time.
For love’s not just receivin’
It’s a givin’ in return.
I found what I was lookin’ for,
Now wait here, Wait here till you …

Chorus: Learn how to smile
When it’s hard for a while,
When you learn how to cry,
when you’re happy.
Honey when I’m far away,
How to be together day to day.
How ya gotta love me child,
In that good ole’ familiar country style.

3) The time has come for partin’
Our happy days are gone.
The things we learned together
Are gonna help us both along.
So ya wander down your own road
honey, I’ll try to wander mine.
And if our roads should cross again,
It’ll be at a better time.
For love’s not just receivin’
It’s a givin’ in return.
I found what I was lookin’ for
Now wait here, wait here till you...

Chorus: Learn how to smile,
When it’s hard for a while.
When you learn how to cry,
when you’re happy.
Honey, honey when I’m far away,
How to be together day to day,
How ya gotta love me child,
In that good ole’ familiar country style.

Chorus: When ya learn how to smile
When it’s hard for a while,
When you learn how to cry,
when you’re happy.
Honey, honey when I’m far away,
How to be together day to day.
How ya gotta love me child,
In that good ole’ familiar country style.
Familiar country style.
Familiar country style.

Texas Weather: Gotta love it.


Farmers fought a drought all summer, and now that the cotton is ready for harvest, they have to fight rain. Amateur weathermen, better known as Brazos Valley farmers, have reported almost 20 inches of rain in parts of the Brazos Valley in the past couple of weeks. And they have a good reason to pay attention, a whole crop can be ruined if it stays wet and warm too long.

In just a couple of weeks, we morphed from a semi-arid desert to a lush rainforest. That's Texas weather, especially on the east side. A bunch of toadstools popped up in my backyard during the rains, happy as they could be. Texas is a land of extremes and changes and surprises. Most of them have little or nothing to do with anything positive. Every year is different. Farmers try to scheme and out-smart the weather and still get skunked every time. Local farmers have to just sit on their hands as these relentlass autumn rains set in and drench their cotton crop... now begging to be harvested, and which eventually begins to rot and mold if not harvested. First you endure the drought, then you lose it to rain, after the growing season is passed. That's Texas Cotton farming. You gotta love Texas weather, it gives you something to talk about.

"Is it cold enough for ya?"

"They are having funnel clouds in College Station"

"Another hurricane, expected to land at Corpus Christi, or Bolivar, or Freeport..."

"Damn it's hot! When did we have Spring?"

"Another Christmas in shortsleeves"

"There's goes a trailride, it's time for another Blue Norther"

"I've got cracks in my yard that would cripple a horse."

"I'll never complain about needing rain again..."

I checked in Adolphus Sterne's journal, For several consecutive days in mid-October 1841, Nacogdoches merchant Adolphus Sterne started his journal with: "Rain last night, and a great deal today," and the next day, "Very sultry warm weather," and then "Very warm, showers of rain," and another day, "very warm weather last night, rain..." Several days of relentless rain, accompanied by warm, muggy weather. And in those days, there were no paved streets, no gutters, no sidewalks. They had even more to talk about.

"Paw, rig up the mules, the buckboard is stuck in the middle of the road, and the horse is belly deep."

"Put off yore courtin', Son, better pick cotton all night, and get as much as we can before the storm hits."

"The corn's just nubbin's, might as well gather it and feed it to the hawgs."

So all in all, we have it great now don't we?

Monday, October 12, 2009

The conclusion to the show you will never see.

Part II

Buzz: Good Morning America, This is the Buzz Lighthead Show! Now appearing to you every morning, for a whole hour, still shining a light on America. This morning we have a very special guest, Radio talk show personality, the shooting star in the Cable world, Rusty Armstrong, soon to sign with our own Network. Rusty, its seems like just months ago that you were standing up in the horse arena In the San Joaquin Valley, when you drew the magic number…
Rusty: The fickle Finger of Fate. I think my Father used his influence… That’s because it has just been four months. How are ya Buzz?
Buzz: I’m adjusting. Rusty, the first thing my staff said when we moved into our new studio, was let’s do an interview of Rusty while we can still afford him. You have electrified a sleeping giant of American middle class and blue collar workers with a simple message. We’ve been watching you, and still have to shake our heads every once in awhile. There is obviously much more to you than the kid that appeared on our story about the California farming crisis…
Rusty: Thank you Buzz, I guess. I’m having a great time.
Buzz: First of all, bring us up to date. What has been happening in your life?
Rusty: Well, as you have announced, I have been asked to host my own television show, thanks to you and the American people.
Buzz: All because you gave me what for!
Rusty: Right. It’s not fair is it?
Buzz: How do you live with yourself? You’re a nice kid and everything…
Rusty: It’s pretty easy these days. But you know life is not fair, ever. That was your message out in California. A lot of people were not getting what they deserved. That may be the greatest fallacy of all however, that people ever get what they deserve.
Buzz: I’ve heard you speak on this before. “Good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people.” That’s comforting… Like a bed of nails! More of your Christian upbringing, I guess.
Rusty: Partly, and I have actually studied religion abroad.
Buzz: Baptist? Or are you one of those…
Rusty: Yeah, Baptist. At least I was baptized… They teach that we all are blessed already by God’s Grace, or else it would just be another Flood or heavy flak coming down all the time. Thank goodness none of us ever really gets what we deserve.
Buzz: I’m a Christian, but I never heard that! Surely you are using hyperbole.
Rusty: Perhaps, but the point is that we believe that all good things come from God, including the many blessings this Country has received… And sometimes, when we are astray, bad things are allowed to happen to get our attention.
Buzz: So there is a sort of karma that works through after all.
Rusty: Kind of. Anyway, I’ve just been trying to get Americans to look back at our roots in this Country. We have abandoned the very Force of the Universe that made us the most powerful country in the world. Worse, we have consistently insulted Him. I’m fearing we are headed to the garbage dump.…
Buzz: You don’t tug on Superman’s cape!
Rusty: Or spit into the wind. Great song. I love Jim Croce.
Buzz: So right along with your displeasure with American political parties, and the Media, and Liberal Progressives, and the President’s Bailout program, you are out of sorts with the Spiritual condition of this Country. You even say the solutions to our problems are not political…
Rusty: At best, they are only partly political. We could all join you, Republicans and Democrats, in your theme song…
Buzz: Cum Bayah?
Rusty: Cum bayah m’ Lord! But we still would suffer from deep deficiencies. It’s going to take more than a song, singing peace and harmony. It would not last. Americans have lost their foundational concepts that built this Country. We could never have built our Country without them, and we cannot maintain it very long without them either.
Buzz: Without God. That’s the main concept. But everyone’s concept of God is so different.
Rusty: Well, they don’t have to be that congruous. Look at Washington and Jefferson and Franklin. About all they agreed upon was there was A GOD. They really had a very vague bond of liberal Christianity. It had been 150 years since the Pilgrims had established those tiny colonies based on strict Christian values. But there was an emergence led by Benjamin Franklin of Freemasonry, known to us as the Masonic brotherhood that required a man to accept the basic tenant of monotheism, and they pretty much ignored doctrine and practice, but required that all men who were leaders and politicians be a part of that basic pact. Theoretically, their exclusive brotherhood included Jews and Muslims. There is substantial Masonic symbolism even today in our National iconography.
Buzz: But many of us, like Catholics and Lutherans, are prohibited by our Faiths from belonging to such groups!
Rusty: The Masons were a secret society, and had their issues. I don’t necessarily endorse everything they do, but there is no doubt about it, they represent a tightly bound covenant to honor God. But it is a fairly pantheistic deity, as it was in the Colonial times. This is the religious cloud that pretty much founded this country. Still, It was blessed like no other, in spite of its imperfections. But Instead of making that covenant more inclusive, today we have replaced it with apostasy.
Buzz: Americans have basically said; “We got ours, now to heck with God.”
Rusty: Pretty much. And sadly, our children have been raised thinking it was a system that gave us our prosperity. But God could have, and has blessed many people… and different kinds of political and social systems; a theocracy like the ancient Jews and the Holy Roman Empire, or basic communists like the early church, or even kingdoms in Medieval France, all of which have enjoyed incredible rises to preeminence at various times in history. Kids today say a Pledge of Allegiance, to the Flag of the United States of America. It was wonderful experiment in the beginning, as a struggling Republic, but what ushered it to success was being “one Nation under God.”
Buzz: And today, they want to remove that wording, any mention of God.
Rusty: But that’s not the disease, that’s a symptom. It’s just a pledge. To a piece of cloth. And the flag was around long before the pledge was, and the words you allude to were added in the 1950’s. Regardless, that symbol grabs our hearts and represents many good things to many people. But it is not God. Unfortunately, the Government has become like a god to some. Inappropriately, many Americans and people in power think that it is the political system that protects us, feeds us, and provides our every need. That is God’s job. And ironically, the less we depend on Him, and the more we ignore Him, the worse shape we get in. Everyone admits our Country is in a contentious mess, with confusion and insurmountable debt, but we would rather go borrow more money, than admit we have had a spiritual meltdown and lost our way. And as long as we insult God, He will withhold His blessings.
Buzz: There is not enough money in the Universe…
Rusty: Not enough money to do what God did, just because we were somewhat aware of Him, for well over a Century. But Liberal Progressives are out to prove the opposite. They believe in borrowing, spending, intimidating, scaring, legislating, anything to get the results without the moral compass our forefathers used. If they could ever find that man-made formula, they could disprove the Spiritual foundations of our Country. And the Progressive overthrow of our Country would be complete.
Buzz: But there’s not enough time or money, if they went on for fifty years. They are bound to fail.
Rusty: The great, public test of their theories is unfolding as we speak. The only question is what will be left after they have had their way for too long. We will no doubt be left deep in debt… so unproductive and unable to even defend ourselves, we will be a fallen empire, almost a third world country, like Italy.
Buzz: Yeah that’s right, they were once the Roman Empire! And of course the Holy Roman Empire… I wonder if they ever felt themselves losing their big partner in the sky… So, Rusty, where does America go from here?
Rusty: I’m ready for the whole rodeo. Things are going to get very ugly. It will probably crash and burn. I’m ready to build something better, a better America. Something more Godly, and yet more tolerant and inclusive. But something that will never let the foxes in the henhouse again. If we get another chance, we can never lose our basic spiritual heart again. Our forefathers never imagined Satanists, Occultists, Muslims, Hindus, Atheists… fighting our values in court, competing on the air waves and Internet for the minds of our youth. America has become a multicultural soup that is so full of contradictions and impossible alliances that it cannot function. Many of the assumptions that were woven into our Bill of Rights and our Constitution cannot work in our present society. So our Senators and Congressmen just duke it out, frozen in gridlock, as a popular idealist leads the Country down a road less travelled. With all of the technology and communications and computers, and modern perfectionism, we still cannot govern ourselves as well as our grandparents did with none of it. It is the Tower of Babel all over again.
Buzz: I’m not following you there. Explain that. It seems to me we just need to go back to the good old days.
Rusty: There is no going back. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. We can never be as naïve or as primitive as the founding fathers. We also know of the dangers to their fragile system, and the pitfalls of a totally open society. Sure, we all believe in the basic American freedoms. But over the years we have so bound those freedoms because of modern circumstances, that those freedoms are barely recognizable. If you really think you are free, try putting a religious symbol on the courthouse grounds, or even the Ten Commandments. Try going into an airport terminal without a ticket. Try buying a gun, or even bullets. Americans are monitored, corralled, and restricted far beyond the vision of our founding fathers. Everywhere you go, the pleasures we once enjoyed are being limited or shut down. Beaches, camp grounds and roadside parks are restricted or closed, our children are treated like criminals if they pray in public, and our National heroes are now considered perpetrators and oppressors.
Buzz: What’s wrong with getting history right? Wasn’t F.D.R. blatantly unconstitutional, and Robert E. Lee a traitor?
Rusty: Those are pretty harsh words for men revered by a significant segment of our society. As Americans, we will once again be united when we learn to respect one another, and that includes each other’s heroes, and our elected officials, as flawed as they may be. Buzz, what we all need to know is that every man messes up and falls short in some degree, of the Glory of God. It is by His Grace, that we keep going.
Buzz: So you think I’m too disrespectful of Obama?
Rusty: President Obama. Our fairly elected, Commander in Chief. Just remember Buzz, every nasty thing you say about him, tomorrow’s youth will feel free to say about someone you support. And they will have learned how to spew venom and contempt for a fellow American from you. Every time we lose our respect for one another, we take an axe to the trunk of our National self respect…
Buzz: We are pretty bad, I’ll admit. All fell short, I guess, except our founding fathers…
Rusty: Even them. Have you ever read Thomas Paine’s Common Sense?
Buzz: Of course, Glenn Beck made me.
Rusty: Everyone agrees that he and his pamphlet called “Common Sense” was the inspiration of our original revolution and political system. Yet nobody has ever taken Paine to task about many assertions he made that totally excluded God’s Word from the equation. We pretty much founded our Country on one man’s common sense, and not prayerful consultation of God. One or two of his essays threw out loyalty to the king, peaceful resolution, and obligation of legal agreements. Americans adopted his ideas because he gave them the rationale to do what they wanted to do, which was to throw the tea overboard, stiff England and justify their desires of independence. He announced that it was a strategic moment in history that begged for action, as it was the perfect time for America to build her own Navy, while the necessary trees were still handy. It was naked opportunism.
Buzz: C’mon, Rusty, we’re talkin’ George Washington, Patrick Henry, the British were scoundrels!
Rusty: True, the kings of England had been corrupt and despotic, and they were less than admirable, but Americans had always prided themselves, just like Canadians, as Christians, submissive to authority and obedient to the Bible, which would have hardly justified their rebellion. We must look at ourselves… Look at our celebrated history. When our American “patriots” threw all that tea over the side into the bay, it was a punishable crime. Today we celebrate the “Tea Party” as if it were a heroic act. It was beyond protest, it was vandalism. Destruction of property. Much of the rub between the Colonists and the British military was over civil disobedience. If it was over unfair taxation, we would surely have had another war since then! But Americans were feeling their oats, becoming commercially independent, and saw better trade opportunities than those they were bound to as British subjects. Then Paine explained it away, and the rest is history.
Buzz: My history teacher never told me this… Where did you attend college?
Rusty: It was a private Jewish school. You’ve never heard of it. But look at Canada, and compare them to us. They enjoy much of our culture without the guilt of a bloody revolution, or a costly civil war. God gave to them out of obedience, what we took through violence. That is one reason why they look at us askance. We are the Anglo-rowdies of North America.
Buzz: Must be that Scotch-Irish blood… seriously, I can’t believe I’m hearing this. So our Country was just an excuse, a big mistake?
Rusty: No, but no one will argue that many good Americans refused to violate their faiths, and to raise arms against their king. And these Colonial Christians, anti- war protesters, today we would call them Conscientious Objectors, were rounded up, jailed, hung, shot down, and burned out or chased off to Canada. We started our Country on the deadly debate about the rule of law and Biblical authority, and the most devoted Christians lost. The men that won the American Revolution were certainly good men, but who cut their teeth on Paine’s Common Sense. They were not so devout as active Christians, as we think of them today. Thomas Jefferson, the mastermind of our Declaration of Independence, was a Deist. Jefferson believed that a creator god had made the world, then left it to spin without any active involvement from himself. This left room for men to seek their own destinies, without the cumbersome baggage of New Testament pacifism. He even published a book called “The Sayings of Jesus,” omitting all of his miracles and reducing Jesus’ words from Holy Scripture to a benign philosophy.
Benjamin Franklin, another of the Country’s greatest founders, was a sort of religious hybrid, and skeptical about the religious leaders of the day, so we don’t know what he really believed. It has been postulated that according to his upbringing he was sort of a Jewish – deist. Even Abraham Lincoln had issues with organized religion, and only cemented his beliefs in God after going through the American holocaust we know as the Civil War.
Buzz: Not exactly fundamentalists…
Rusty: Not even close. BUT, they had respect for religion and appreciated its place. They could not write a document without invoking the idea of a Creator, who gave all of us “inalienable rights.” But their god was an Ideal and predictable one, almost of human construction, of fairness and justice. Christians know that their Faith is a lot of things, but it is not fair or just, or predictable. Sinful men go to heaven. Rain falls on the just and the unjust. God gives his Grace away to whomever He wills. His only begotten Son takes the thief on the cross with him to paradise…
The founding founders put their faith in Christian generalities, such as the “Golden Rule” and yet more in something Jefferson referred to as “Natural Law,” such as; what goes around, comes around. Something more akin to the Buddhist idea of Karma. With traces of Old Testament influences like Reciprocity, An eye for an eye. Give and take. All mixed with ideas borrowed from Humanism like Motherly Love, Paternal authority, Human kindness, Equality, or at least common origins, and Survival of the Fittest. And a unique American instinct we now call Manifest Destiny. All useful, reasonable, Common Sense stuff. But actually, this will make some people mad, there’s no mention of inalienable rights in the Holy Scriptures.
The Son of Man and his disciples taught submission and good works, wherever you find yourself in life. Our rights as followers of Christ, come last. Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness were concepts born out of the Age of Reason, not the New Testament. Life to a Christian is given and taken by God, freedom is in Christ, but it could conceivably happen to a slave, and followers of Christ are exhorted to seek wisdom, truth, love and many other things, but happiness is never mentioned as an ultimate goal, it is the consequential joy of knowing God and serving him. Revolution was never inspired by God. Judas the betrayer of Christ, was the revolutionist. We are to take up our own cross, not guns or lawyers.
Buzz: I’ve got to take a hard break here, hold that thought, and America, don’t touch that remote!
I’m calling an armed escort to get you out of here! I don’t want any blood in our Lobby… You are really a fried egg man, you keep talkin’ like this, it will do great by me, but it will cost you that contract… You are some piece of work… where are you from anyway?
Rusty: Don’t worry about me. I’ve faced much worse. I was born in a little town on the outskirts…
Buzz: We’re back America, Buzz Lighthead shining a light into the recesses of a twisted mind! Damn Rusty, you are crazy, and you make our system sound so worldly, so different from what many people have been taught! It seems obvious now that you mention it, that there is severe philosophical friction between Christianity and Thomas Paine and the founding fathers. But still, they were religious men, you say so yourself. Aren’t you splitting hairs? God is god to most of us.
Rusty: Yes, but to GOD, God is the great I AM. He is just one, and He never inspired the Declaration of Independence or the American Revolution. They were aggressively, unapologetically contrary to the teachings of Scripture. The religions that we all know and love and most of us practice today came through a series of religious revivals that happened decades later. You might say the next generations rebelled against the rowdiness of their fathers. Americans have no idea what pagans the American Revolutionists were.
Religion in the 1700’s was very abstract, most people were illiterate, churches were few, and dueling, gambling, prostitution, philandering and alcoholism were rampant. Many wealthy people and even the middle class had SLAVES, Black and White. Men were imprisoned for debt and relatively minor crimes. Only male landowners could vote. The President was actually selected by the Nation’s elite, the Electoral College.
Buzz: Sure, we know all that, but we had to start somewhere. We were still better than the British!
Rusty: Actually, we weren’t. The British strongly prohibited slavery, and were known to be much more humane in their treatment of the Native Americans. That is why the tribes fought for them. Even Native Americans understood the bond of a man’s word, and loyalty. Believe me, the last thing we want is the America the founders founded. It makes the Southern Confederacy look good. In fact Virginians, literally descendants of Washington and Jefferson, and in memory of their traditions and dualistic paradigms, contrived the Confederate States and were trying to return the Country back to those days. When the War Between the States was fought, is was as much about what direction the South would go; Whether into the religious reformation of the day, which demanded true freedom for everyone, a definite departure from the founding fathers, or return to the contradictions endemic in the old Deistic, permissive mindset. The Confederacy was the last stand for individual, supposedly sovereign States, who preferred to foster whatever ungodly evils like slavery or Indian annihilation that suited them and their electorate.
Buzz: I can see the mail now… The South is turning over in its grave!
Rusty: We had a bitter, terrible war to settle the question, and the Country ended up with historic reform. Even though the South won most of the battles, or made the North pay dearly, the North won the war. The Abolitionists prevailed, and American Christian religions mushroomed. The Country entered into a season of what we think of when we consider ourselves a Christian Nation. Soon, there was a Victorian war on drugs, alcohol, prostitution, child labor and a campaign for Women’s Rights. Coincidently, or NOT, that is when the greatest advances in technology were ever made, we call it the Industrial Revolution, and we enjoyed the greatest prosperity a single Nation has ever known, and America rocketed to world prominence and it’s unparalleled, relatively benign, leading role in spreading freedom and democracy.
Buzz: Man. So… our founding fathers were bad and the Civil War was good… I don’t wanna be you, as you walk down the street. Even if what you say is true, how does that help us now?
Rusty: It’s never too late. The same God of Moses and Jesus said; “If my people, who are called by my Name, will humble themselves, and pray and seek My Face, and turn from their wicked ways, I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.”
Buzz, we founded this country on some good ideas, and some not -so- good ones, like, we have so much freedom, we tolerate other ideals and let prosper those who want to destroy our culture and way of life! So today, we only enjoy a whisper of the nation conceived by our founders. We made a great henhouse, and then let the foxes in to eat them. Jesus taught us to be as harmless as doves, but as wise as serpents. But the original American model was downright inconsistent and unjust and arrogantly vulnerable.
Buzz: So Jefferson, Franklin, Paine, all flawed. Who do you LIKE in American history?
Rusty: Buzz… Abraham, Moses, David, Paul and Peter were all flawed. That does not mean that they were not good men who tried hard and did some valuable things for mankind. They made worse mistakes than our founding fathers. But they are the messengers of our Faith. That is the lesson. No institution made by men will be perfect, or will stand forever, and none can compare to what God has in store for us in Glory. The bottom line is this; We are not to worship a system of government, or a Country. The best we can do is protect or improve it with God’s help. The worst would be to forget the role He has played, or exclude Him now, or restrict His blessings in the future, by reinventing America into a sterile, godless machine.
Buzz: But that is where we are headed. Most Progressives think religion is dangerous, and needs to be cleansed from our system, like a virus. They want religion taken off the airwaves, out of the schools and public places, removed from sight, they want our holidays to be rendered into perfunctory seasonal celebrations; No heroes, no religion, no native identity.
Rusty: And if they are successful, they leave our children with nothing worth defending. A soulless middle class with no cultural orientation, no moral compass. Look at China or Russia and you will see where that leads. It leads to Westernization by default, because the Western world produces all the styles, exciting technologies and entertainment, more bi-products of the wonderful creative genius of our people, who once had a partnership with the Creator of all. Who or what will they turn to, once that light has been extinguished?
Buzz: Hey, I shine the light on America… I know what you are saying. The world looks to us, and we give them Lady Ga ga…
Rusty: It’s never too late… until the Second Coming...
Buzz: Right. You are RADICAL! You’re gonna get me fired. That’s all for today, broadcasting Live from our New York studios! Good day America, see you tomorrow, when Lighthead will once again, shine a light on America!
Rusty: See you around.
Buzz: Yeah kid, good show. Good luck with that religious Cool-Aid. I hear you’re goin’ on Larry King. I’ll be watchin’ that one! We’ll have you back soon, and sick the Scientologists on you. That would be a good one! Or maybe I can line up a Catholic Bishop… I wonder what Billy Graham would say to all this…
Sandra, get Rick Warren for me, as soon as you can…
Rusty: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.”
Buzz: Anyway Rusty, vaya con Dios… where did he go?
What a weird guy. Sandra, check with the gate and see if Mr. Armstrong has left the building… he just …disappeared…
Did anyone else notice those scars on his arms?
He kind of gave me the creeps, must be an ex-con or something… he didn’t even wait for his bodyguards… I can't believe it, it was like I was in a trance... I hardly talked at all, I must be coming down with something...
What a religious fruitcake! And to think, they are giving him my old prime-time slot! That guy could start a cult! No inalienable rights…What’s happening to this industry? Deists. Sandra? What did the gateman say?
Sandra: Mr. Lighthead, nobody has seen him. But there are baby chicks running around everywhere in the lobby! It smells like a henhouse down here!
Buzz: Well, take these goons with you and wait for him downstairs. “Take up our own cross, not guns or lawyers…” what an idiot. Baby chicks? Where is their mother? Try to get a camera down there!
I guess… we just let the Fox … in the henhouse… or chicks in the Fox house… whatever. That’s pretty funny. Seems like I heard him mention something about chicken wings… what did he say, I wasn’t listening…
He just, ZIIIP, disappeared. Just looked down for a second. “…we take an axe to the trunk of our National self respect,” give me a break! I feel like I’ve just been drugged, or slammed, or invigorated, or turned inside out. I gotta call Beck… this is even weirder than him! Sandra! Bring me a copy of the show, uncut.
Beck’s got his Common Sense… But he’s got… uncommon sense. This guy Rusty… he’s a genius. Went to a private Jewish School… born in the outskirts… scars… Sandra! Forget the copy. I’m going home…

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The real menace to society... “Pigpeii”


Remember the angst about Y2K and the “Killer Bees?” Now the Media is finally admitting that “Global Warming” is sort of cooling. And then recently the Swine Flu scare, then the Swine Flu adjusted prognosis, and lastly the Swine Flu revival, at a school near you. Health authorities even changed the name of the virus to help de-stigmatize our swine friends. So the public, with lots of help is constantly confused, distracted and alarmed by the wrong things. Those images of the dead and dying in Mexico have proven to be stronger than scientific terminology, affirming the axiom that it is the first impression that matters. But please, don’t completely retire your fear of swine. Public enemy number one may not be Swine Flu, or swine in general. But there is great justification in focusing your attention for just a few moments on a true public health and safety threat; the Texas feral hog population. It is a volcano about to erupt. Just call it “Pigpeii.”

Feral hogs, wild, unmanaged swine that run with abandon in the Texas river bottoms, have mushroomed into a massive, intimidating public nuisance. And not without considerable resistance. Unencumbered with regulated hunting seasons, bag limits, or guilt from wanton slaughter, professional State hunters massacre them by the gross from helicopters, ranchers and farmers shoot them with eager scorn, weekend warriors chase them down on four-wheelers, and good old boys in every county build super-traps in their garages to catch this wily enemy. So far the feral hog population has only thrived with all of this attention. They are expected by many to grow in the next few years from an estimated two million to some number that more resembles the national debt. Kirby Brown, executive vice president of the Texas Wildlife Association, calls it an “absolute explosion." Sightings of swine marauders and damage claims by feral hog victims in most Texas counties have skyrocketed. The average annual destruction estimate by each landowner is over four thousand dollars. So every year, an estimated $50 million in hog damages are claimed by Texans. And that’s not hogwash.

Meanwhile the wild hogs plow on, ravaging greener pastures, leaving beautiful meadows churned as if turned by a Massey-Ferguson cultivator. To come upon where they have recently dined looks like a great beast has had a temper tantrum and attacked the earth with all his fury. A pleasant river- bottom alcove can be turned into an ugly mess in minutes, with cow-crippling holes and large tree roots exposed, all fleeced with freshly fluffed sand. Voracious and lean and very smart, these swine barely resemble their domestic cousins. Except in one respect; feral hogs eat anything, the corn the farmer has raised to feed his cattle, wild onions, tasty roots and flower gardens, all kinds of snakes, the newborn fawn the doe has left hidden in the field, the eggs laid by quail and other prairie birds, or the rotting cow lying dead from some unknown disease in the back forty. I have seen them strip a dead yearling calf to bleached-bones overnight. To look upon such complete carnivorous destruction is unsettling, like a bad monster movie, especially when you think about what the State is doing about it. Which is less than they have done about Swine Flu or Killer Bees.

Even more discouraging, is the way the State wildlife experts frame the situation. ABC News reported three years ago as Billy Higginbotham, whose job it is to coordinate Texas A&M research with surrounding landowners through the Texas Extension Cooperative, explained almost stoically: "We are not going to eradicate them; what our hope is that we can reduce their population to reduce damage." In other words, our best and most informed minds see sparse relief and no foreseeable victory in this battle. Higginbotham and others admit that they are almost overwhelmed, with little imperative data to build a strategy on. Landowners in Texas are facing a real problem that has unknown proportions, is growing very fast at an unknown rate, and can only be arrested by some unknown solution. And authorities only offer that we just learn to live with these invaders. These words, and this kind of fatalism is downright un-Texan and is as welcome to Texas landowners as those first gassy belches of a volcano.

And let us not forget the potential health hazards these dastardly denizens of the deep woods bring to the picnic. Besides the fact that if so inclined, they are apt to attack you with deadly force. They travel in packs, surround and knock down their prey like rhinos, and consume them like piranhas. Wild hogs have been known to aggressively injure and even to kill humans. Just like domestic hogs, they can carry Pseudorabies and Trichinosis. Authorities cringe when they even consider a latent threat, if the feral hogs ever begin to spread Cholera. But more likely a person will get Brucellosis from the harvesting and processing of their carcasses, as at least 10% of them carry the disease. Yes, they are good eating, especially when young, but not without some risk. Hunters are advised to cook the meat very thoroughly. But it is just a matter of time, as tourists and careless weekenders fill the wild lands of Texas every autumn, and the wild hogs expand into more new territories, that somebody will leave a small child unattended… and never see them again.

And that may have to happen before authorities take any real, conclusive action. The problem as usual is not the problem, but its political appeal. Feral hog infestation is not a popular cause, thus not deemed worth the money or effort needed to warn the public, much less eradicate the pesky pork predators. If Highway 6 is any example, only deaths help to pep up the popularity of what otherwise seem like unfeasible precautions and solutions. I know several hog hunters and trappers that are forecasting an historic, unstoppable statewide infestation in the coming years, but no one seems to care. And still they come.

One of these hunters, a master sharpshooter, hunts them at night for sport, and I have looked through his night-vision telescope. Let’s pray it is not a view into our future. It is the reality version of Where the Wild Things Are. At night the Brazos bottom comes alive like the African Savannah. Deer, coyotes, rabbits, foxes, bobcats, infinite vermin, and even some panthers show up from time to time. Most of these animals are nocturnal, and seldom seen. But this Brazos Serenghetti is a shooting gallery of feral hogs. The hogs forage and scamper by regularly, a new batch of raiders from across the river, every night. They are guerilla insurgents, and you are their oyster. My sharpshooting friend used to try to find needy pig meat lovers, but wild pork has become so common that he cannot give it away. The resilient hogs are just like ants. If you kill one, a hundred come to his funeral. Sometimes their carcasses dot the cornfields like a war zone. The buzzards are as fat as chickens… Still they come.

Another friend of mine hunts them the old fashioned way, with dogs. He heads for the bottoms every chance he gets with his wonderful Catahoulas, known by some as “leopard dogs.” Anciently bred for panther hunting by Native Americans in the Louisiana swamps, they are a little wild themselves, can run all day, and have no fear. They live to hunt. And some of them die in the process. The hog dog is nothing if not a savage, winner-take all fighter. Their owner rarely carries a gun though. Guns can attract testy landowners and game wardens. If the dogs need help, he has a massive Bowie knife to end each chase. But a hunter like this can only kill a hundred hogs a year, at best, a tiny drop in the bucket.

This kind of unlegislated Bowie knife thrill-hunting has become a popular but gruesome sport on exotic hunting leases, where adventuresome hunters pay embarrassing amounts to hunt down, tackle and cut the throat of the beast. With no season or limit, and an inexhaustible prey, it is the perfect game for the bloodthirsty. But many landowners would admit that their income from hog hunting is not worth the damage done. And it is an insignificant threat to the feral hog population, since it is aimed primarily at trophy sized males. And ironically a public nuisance becomes a valuable revenue source, thus confusing or undermining goals of extermination.

Still another friend has tried a more comprehensive approach. He builds, sells and uses hog traps. He then markets the hogs to pork exporters. He and others like him have built perhaps a hundred traps or more, trying to exhaust the local feral hog population. Texas hunters and trappers like him have found an endless mother lode of meat, hides and fertilizer. The feral hog population is soon to become recognized and utilized as a natural resource.

Here are the dynamics that excite him and so many others. Feral hogs breed just like rabbits, and have 2.5 litters a year. Each litter consists of four to twelve piglets. The mortality rate is low compared to other species. In two years, with 50% mortality, one sow can produce over 2,500 hogs, approximately half of which will be female, and in just four years, over 3,000,000, who in just a couple more years can produce tens of millions of feral hogs. All from one old sow that escapes from some poor guys trap. Since only one hog could hypothetically replenish the assumed population now existing in less than five years, it seems improbable that the State estimates are remotely accurate. The only thing keeping the feral hog population within a manageable number must be the various unorganized hunting and trapping efforts, which we know are slowly losing the war. The hogs are not growing unchecked. But they are steadily growing in spite of the unorganized war on them in our wild lands. Then in a few years, at some pivotal point, the insufficient feral hog harvest will become insignificant, as the feral hog population reaches a critical mass, and suddenly we will all have wild hogs in our backyards.

In the process of studying this public enemy I have learned another rather unsettling fact. “Authorities” do not have a clue about actual wildlife populations or the severity of their disease infestation. It has long been assumed that State biologists estimate animal populations by counting heads along roads inside controlled populations, and have a magic formula by which they create a statewide extrapolation, what is known as a “SWAG”: Scientific Wild Ass Guess. Since feral hogs are very difficult if not impossible to count, the State estimates hog populations by equivocating, assuming that they are somewhat the same as deer populations. For argument’s sake, that puts the hog population in Texas at around 2 million. For now. That means that so far, every two years, predation and hunting and trapping and bad luck cause the wild hogs to pretty much die back and simultaneously replace themselves. If that were true, it would be an amazing coincidence. Even so, this SWAG will not stand for long. Deer have an average of less than one offspring per year. They are hunted sporadically, and their diet and range habits are different. It’s a useless apple and orange comparison. Feral hogs are much more flexible and fertile and prolific than White tailed deer. The feral hog population could not stay in some kind of mystical neck and neck population race with deer indefinitely. Yet this is the expert’s best “SWAG.” It may be time for Texans to make a SWAG themselves.

Texans can safely guess that State authorities have done effectively little, knowing all the while about the Tsunami of wild, rapacious swine already on the fringes of our population centers, carrying untold disease and destruction. The State has most probably wildly underestimated the feral hog population. Texans can guess someone will have to die first before they aim any of our tax dollars at a solution. And pathetically, even the legendary Texas Aggies do not offer one, at any price. When the inevitable happens, we can already see the TEC, Texas Parks & Wildlife or the Center for Disease Control shrugging and pointing at some other agency. And Texas is ten years behind in addressing this public health threat.

What has made this problem so hard to wrap governmental minds around is there is no agency specifically in charge of monitoring or reducing such animal populations,in other words, Pest Control, and no leaders who perceive a need for one. State agencies sometimes fail to enthusiastically pool their resources, and AgriLife, Texas Parks & Wildlife, and others have failed to take the lead, presumably because of bigger priorities or lack of funding. What is needed is some creative cooperation between the various organizations, and perhaps some leverage applied from our elected representatives.

These feral hogs are public enemy number one, ask any rancher or farmer. They do not have to concoct a SWAG. They are in a range war with a cunning foe, a land shark adapted to our climate and terrain, that breeds relentlessly. Texas landowners claim over 50 Million dollars a year in damage by feral hogs to their property. There is precious little organized to keep the feral hog population from quadrupling in the coming years, and quadrupling the damages they cause with them.

Recently ranchers in our County have noticed an exciting increase in other wildlife populations. Predators of all kinds seem to be doing very well these days. Coyotes used to have the run of Texas prairies, but now share them with a resurgence of Red Wolves, Foxes, Bobcats, Mountain Lions and even Jaguars. As an unknown number of feral hogs has exploded, so have the animals that might dine on them. Wildlife managers will have an even more delicate problem on their hands, if and when they ever eradicate the present menace of wild pigs. These majestic predators re-establishing themselves in old territories will be an historic and welcome homecoming to wildlife lovers, just as the return of the American Bald Eagle. But as the feral hogs are somehow controlled, these predators will become the Texas livestock chain massacre. Only swift action can curtail this inevitable return of the food chain, as nature tries to balance this unnatural threat, and Texans face an even more difficult foe, Liberal minded animal rights activists, who think landowners have no rights when it comes to the life cycle of a smelt.

The recent swine flu scare was a godsend of sorts, and it should have awakened Texas wildlife management authorities to the potential public danger of feral hogs. You might want to contact someone in government you know, who might listen, and help our State avoid a needless disaster, one we someday will call Pigpeii, with widespread destruction the likes of Pompeii, the Roman village lost under nature’s fury, another time when people ignored the obvious and lived like there was no tomorrow.

The amazing miracle of the Internet.


I love it when events and circumstances “triangulate” as I call it. Linda and I often note that seeming five or six degrees (or less!) of separation between us and almost anyone we meet.

I also nurse this theory that history constantly repeats itself, and that we would all be so much better off if we bothered to learn the lessons of history. So in an effort to explore that notion, and perhaps learn with my readers that which our ancestors would love to have taught us, if they could have, I offer a series of blog entries that will be not only interesting, or even touching, but voices from the past, connecting into our life-stream. With any luck, or Divine help, hopefully these glimpses into the past will somehow triangulate with the present, and you will read something that will add to your day, or even give you inspiration or even answers for your own journey.

To begin, I will be offering quotations and paraphrases from two of my favorite diaries. One is the diary of Adolphus Sterne, writing a daily journal while living in Nacogdoches, Texas in the 1840’s. The other is the precious diary of a relative, Margery Cushman, who made her entries as a teenager while living on a plantation in Louisiana in the 1850’s. I will tell you more about them as we read their most intimate thoughts, thawed out and compared to our own stories, still in progress.

In these crazy times, when everyone agrees that our Country, and perhaps the world is searching fruitlessly for answers, it is not so outrageous to consult those who have gone before. While it is true that the world today is very different, nature and people are pretty much still the same. And while we have learned so much since then, I fear that we have lost much more. Modern Americans suffer today from information overload and technological tyranny, and unnaturally reduced human interaction, that has led to a giant meltdown in all of our personal relationships. Many people today have everything, except someone to talk to. As you will see, there are people who had much to say, and were even poetic in their communications, who imagined that someday you might trip upon their diaries, and left some insights for living, and they have just been waiting for us to ask…

So imagine for a moment that your computer is a time travel screen, and you have surfed into a distant time, when your ancestors still enjoyed each other’s company, sat in the parlor for hours and played music, or sang or read poetry to one another. A time when life was lived on the front porch, and was never taken for granted, when every moment of safety and health was a gift, and when people knew from whence those gifts came. In 1857, in the middle of her diary, Margery offered, “Perhaps it may be a pleasure in after years to glance over these pages and reflect of the pains and pleasures I passed through…” A pleasure indeed, cousin Margery, in fact a privilege, to share your character and Faith and winsome perspective with those separated from you by mere degrees.

Diary of Margery Eliza Cushman
Oct 8, 1853: “Nearly a week has elapsed since last I wrote, and why this delay? It is this. I have really been so very busy that I have had no time, it is study, study all the time, and not time for anything else. I have known my lessons pretty well this week. I remained with Miss Jeannie this day so as to have time for working on my worsted [homespun yarn and the fabric made from such]. Oh, when will this pestilence cease? When will I feel satisfied with our condition, another of my friends has been taken away in the bloom of her girlhood. I sincerely hope she was prepared to meet her fate. I spent the night with Anna this week, enjoyed myself very much. I wrote a composition for last Wednesday, which Miss Jeannie complimented me very highly upon. I shall copy it here. My scholars are progressing very rapidly I think….” Margery makes a few comments concerning her duties as a tutor for smaller children, and the ominous illness of many of those around her. People everywhere were dropping like flies from Yellow Fever… “Brother Walter returned from the river yesterday evening. Pa will remain there until the last of next week. I expect he thinks he will make a better crop than we thought. I hope it may be for our good…

“Memories of Summer”
Regal Summer is now standing beside me, but her brow is growing wan and pale, although her sunshine is as bright and merry as formerly, yet while smiling o’er hill and prairie, the winds are chanting her wail. Tread with solemn step, for she is dying, she is slowly passing away, her reign with its brilliant pageant show, will soon be over, even the flowers growing upon the brooklets margin, sadly droop, as the wailing winds pass o’er them, to hear the waters moan. How silent is all within the forest, not a single sound to be heard save the farewell note of some bird taking its departure for a warmer clime. The strong boughs slowly swaying to & fro, remind one of some form hopelessly grieving, while a few struggling withered leaves, the last remains of the beautiful foliage of early summer, are falling one by one, like a mourner’s tears. Ah Summer, with her gay and courtly train, her fleeting pleasure, will soon pass away, but not so the lasting sorrows, the saddening memories she leaves upon the brain…

…It was a grievous sorrow never more to see that face with its pure and placid sweetness, not behold that form with its graceful beauty, but we should bough our heads in submission to the holy will of God, and although filled with sorrow, yet we could not wish to lure thee hither, from your glorious happiness. No, earth was not home for thee, gentle spirit, for thy saint-like purity, thou dost inherit that bright land.
“Heavenly Father may these mem’ries
Fit us for thy blessed love
As we tread our pilgrim way
To thy promised courts above.”

This is all of my composition, rather short but better than nothing. I am getting too sleepy to write any more so will have to retire…


The diary of Adophus Stern
October 12, 1843: Rain last night, did not hurt my Corn much- splendid day today, wind n. E&N. Mr. Hoya left for Natchitoches, loaned him my Saddle Horse, hawling in Corn as hard as we can- western mail- and no news- Doctor Starr is better- good- this has been once a great day here in Spanish times- this being the anniversary of the patron saint of the place - our Lady of the Pillar.

Do you see any differences in the way these individuals communicate? One a debutante born into the last age of chivalry, the other a Jewish German merchant on the Texas frontier. The things they have in common? The things that were so important to them, that we take for granted? These two will surprise you continuously in their observations and how much they had in common, as they show us what we have in common.