Conversations, Outbursts and In-between

2

August 20, 2021- The furious man probably shouldn’t have been behind the wheel of the large pick-up-or maybe the guy who laid on his horn and made the other man furious was the one who shouldn’t have been driving. At any rate, as I was crossing the street on foot, the short but intense verbal exchange between the two gave me pause-for a few seconds, as either one, or both, could have bolted through the red light. Such is the mood, sometimes, as we enter the pause in the Southwest’s monsoon season that is known here, as well as elsewhere, as Dog Days.

Earlier today, the nurse at the school where I was working entered our classroom. As she spotted two boys carrying on, in a manner not to her liking, the woman trained in a more authoritative European model of education dressed the class down and warned them not to entertain disobedience. One tactic she used in this effort made sense to me: She made the students stand next to their desks and look at her, while she was issuing the directive. I found that technique very effective, over the next five hours and every time I had instructions for the six-year-olds, they stood next to their desks and listened. Thus went the one-day assignment I had accepted a month ago, before my concurrent long-term effort at our local high school came about.

When I got home and checked e-mails, I found a last minute, after hours reminder about a medical appointment-for Monday. This procedure was tentatively scheduled, before I agreed to help my old colleague at our high school. Customarily, a reminder is sent out a week prior to the appointment. Two days’ notice, when both the medical facility and school are closed for the weekend, doesn’t work. I will need to re-schedule, at a time that works for all concerned. The students, and my colleague are not going to be given short shrift. The medical procedure will happen, though, and soon. No, it is not a life threatening situation.

Thus went, on this cusp of the August Blue Moon.

Day of Rage and Remembrance

6

June 19, 2019, Joplin MO-

The title refers to August 10, 1861, and I will elaborate, momentarily.  My Juneteenth began in Amarillo, with three surly drivers edging towards road rage, within a span of an hour.  The first one zipped around the corner and found me in his way, so the horn blew and the fist was pumpin’.  I got off the road and waited a bit.  Then there was the woman who was off-kilter because I went straight when there was no “left turn only” indicator.  Still no harm, no foul.  Finally, after my Planet Fitness workout, across town, I was screamed at, for driving across a parking lot and not stopping at each point where the road intersects with said lot.  This is, apparently, an Amarillo thing. (In Arizona, every parking lot intersection has a STOP sign. We must be spoiled.)

With all that, I left the city behind, and waltzed on over to Shamrock (See Ernest Tubb’s “Waltz Across Texas”).  There is a place there, called Big Vern’s Steak House.  Aram and I had lunch there, in 2011.  Vern no longer opens for lunch, so after looking around and asking the kind cross street neighbour as to whether Vern was okay (He is; he just opens for dinner only, is all.), I checked out a place called Rusty’s.  The perky owner told me she wouldn’t be open for another week or so, but if I went north a piece, I’d find a nice little place called Mesquite Canyon Steak House.  I did, and it filled the lunch bill nicely.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

Next to Rusty’s is  Spinning Jenny’s House of Music.  If I’d been in a better mood, I’d have popped on in there.  Rusty and Jenny are both pretty and vivacious ladies, with good product, so it’s likely I’ll stop in Shamrock, next time I’m in the area.

SAMSUNG CAMERA PICTURES

I recall June 19 as Juneteenth, the day that Texas slaves received word of the Emancipation Proclamation:  June 19, 1865, when the Union forces landed in Galveston and spread the news.  This was 2 1/2 years after President Lincoln issued the Proclamation.  Today, many people are still not free of their own limiting mental chains.

“Waltz Across Texas” became “Zumba Across Oklahoma”, shortly thereafter.  I have a breakfast meet-up with one of my cousins, who lives near Joplin, early tomorrow morning.  So, there were no Sooners on my schedule, this leg of the trip.  I took the I-40 to 44 and onward straight-away, finding that the long-standing detour through the east side of Tulsa has been eliminated.  It’s all freeway, from Erick to Miami, so I found an hour had been shaved off the drive.  There was a minor rush hour jam, near downtown OKC, but that was all.

Once in Joplin, I found Motel 6 was reasonable, and that this franchise owner has a high-tech system, reminiscent of the European hotels I used, in 2014.  Keyless entry and paperless registration are here in the Heartland.

NEXT:  The Battle of Wilson’s Creek

Sixty-Six for Sixty Six, Part XXV: Purpose

9

April 18, 2017, Prescott- 

What is the purpose of public criticism?

Is it loving admonition, or mere oneupmanship?

What is the purpose of public displays of affection?

Is it sharing one’s heart’s desire, with the world,

or rebellion against what one sees as restrictive and outmoded?

What is the purpose of road rage?

Is it an outlet for uncontrollable frustration,

or a neurotic means to power?

What is the purpose of coarse language?

Is it exercise of one’s freedom of speech,

or the lazy person’s way of off-putting others?

What is the purpose of a failure to love others?

Is it a reaction to real and imagined pressures,

or a reflection of one’s lack of love for self?