Deb called me from the Jeep earlier than usual this morning. She’d just reached the crest of the grade leading down off The Mountain, and she wanted me to see what she saw. She grabbed a quick picture and messaged it to me.
“I gotta get moving,” she said, “but you really oughta drive down here.”
I was outside already, sitting at the picnic table. I got up and walked the quarter-mile to that spot.
The morning sky was clear and bright over The Mountain. Thick fog, however, had moved in before dawn just a couple of hundred feet below us. The scene to the east — our road falling away toward the valley and mountaintops poking through the clouds — was pretty special.
Deb was right. I’m glad I made the effort, even though none of these photos does justice to the scene.
Incidentally, on the way back from Flippin yesterday afternoon, we pulled off at the big bend in our road so that I could check on some wild edibles.
The young redbud blooms I tried a few weeks ago were so tasty that I wanted to sample the seed pods that follow. I picked a few and gave ’em a fair munch.
Good, for sure, but I think it’s still a bit early. I’ll come back in a few days or a week.
Provided we were raised properly, we all were admonished never to think of ourselves as better than anyone else. Maybe we actually were stronger or faster or smarter than the next kid, but conceit was to be avoided.
That said, I’m probably better than you.
I learned how to do math before calculators. I can still do figures in my head or, if need be, on a scrap of paper.
If you can’t do that and never learned how, I’m better than you.
I learned how to spell without the aid of auto-correct or spellcheckers. I was taught to navigate using paper maps — I didn’t have GPS as a crutch — and I learned geography as if knowing where the hell I am was something important.
I grew up without the “undo” command. Think about that. If you’ve never lived in a world without the “undo” command, I’m better than you.
I learned how to find all the information I needed with a phone book and a library card. I wrote term papers without Google.
I developed patience by waiting for “mail orders” — that is, I sent paper forms, completed by hand, with paper checks, via US Mail and received my purchases the same way.
I talked on phones that didn’t leave the house (or even the room), watched TV before cable and survived summers without air conditioning (which nobody had).
I boarded commercial aircraft without using jetways.
My camera had film in it. Batteries weren’t rechargeable. To light a candle or a fire, I used matches that could be struck on any rough surface. The grocery cashier had no reason to ask, “Paper or plastic?”
I was in Boy Scouts when it was still Boy Scouts. I played tackle football while it was still a manly sport, before hitting was outlawed, and I played basketball before the shot clock and the three-point line spoiled the game.
Where I came from, being a “mama’s boy” wasn’t a good thing. (And wearing her clothes meant that the whole family soon would move away and get a fresh start.) There were no “participation trophies.” Strength was prized over weakness. Smart was rewarded and dumb was not.
Needless to say, I never had a question about which bathroom to use.
I come from the last generation to engage in and be entertained by real comedy, before snowflakes invented “hate speech” and killed humor.
If you can’t say that — and I mean all of that — then I’m better than you.
Just so you know.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB