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Don't Let Your Cowboys Grow Up To Be Babies

I have felt like a big ol’ Blue Catfish all week; just sifting through the mud and muck at the bottom of a  Ranch Tank while the World races by above.  Insulated in a fashion from all that going on at the surface and trying to live my life according to what manages to filter down to my level.

Due note has been accorded to the events that others deemed ‘important’ enough to elevate to a scale that amounts to a ‘Hey Looky Here! This is Important’  nationwide alert.

Their news is not necessarily my news and that rift grows daily.  I did take note of several things these past weeks that have managed to stay close to the top of my brain.

News Flash: A  news piece said a 20-something male played 2.4 hours  more of Xbox games per day than a 12-14 year old male.

News Flash: A goodly percentage of young adults aged 25-34 have been forced to move back in with their parents due to economic hardship.  A large number of these kids are unemployed or underemployed.  An unexpectedly large number are also college grads.

News Flash:  Students at 2 schools in San Antone returned this week to find their hang around the neck ID cards now had RFID chips implanted to track their movements.  A handful pf protestors – mostly from out of town – showed up to protest;  fearing the government was conditioning the younger generation for future government involvement in their lives.

News Flash: Watch your mouth —  The State Department says everyday phrases like “hold down the fort” and “rule of thumb” are potentially offensive bombshells.

News Flash: No one at this past week’s Republican Convention so much as mentioned the wars in Afghanistan or Iraq.

Closer to home, I am getting sick and tired of  ‘needy’ people who stop by our gate all hours of the day or night for information or directions or the loan of a legitimate brain for a few minutes.  I am thinking of posting a sign at the gate to cut down on these insanely aggravating visitors.

ALL business conducted in ENGLISH  – NO EXCEPTIONS

Directions —   $5

Simple Math Lesson ie 5 miles = 5 miles; not 3, 7, 10 or 12 miles – $10

Correcting the incorrect directions from your dispatcher:  $25

Reading the directions you did not bother to read:  $35

Reading the directions you cannot read:  $35

Convincing you I know where I am and you don’t (heated argument included):  $50

$50 surcharge to be added for:

Anyone that roars off in a pissed off fashion; leaving me covered in a choking cloud of caliche dust.

Threats of bodily harm directed toward me that make me wish I had some of the hardware lost in the tragic boating accident close at hand.

Waking up my wife due to loud talk, horns honked or brakes jaked.

Waking up this morning with a splitting headache and a sore jaw;  no doubt from clinching and grinding my teeth all night I decided enough was by damned enough. The people and family that actually mean something to me number less than my fingers and toes. I can safely say nobody in that small circle has an IQ that is proportional to how close they are to a MegaMall, they will never die lost in the Wilderness because of bad GPS directions and none of them will ever show up on a Quikmart security video with an underwear mask on their head robbing it with a fork.

In the quest to be the best curmudgeon I can possibly be;  I realize now that I will never attain Legendary Curmudgeon Rank following my current path.  Sure, I have never  played golf,  tweeted or been to a cheese tasting soiree.   I admit freely that  a  smartphone is mostly beyond me but it ain’t enough.   I can’t be fretting all the time that something that just falls out of my mouth might be offensive to anybody anywhere at anytime.  I can’t be going around all the time wearing that tinfoil hat to shield me from government killer drones and black helicopters.    I just can’t be doing that.  It ain’t natural.

Life as I/We Know It has turned into a huge Gordian Knot  that is just smothering the last breath right out of me and Miss Kathy.

“Turn him to any cause of policy,
The Gordian Knot of it he will unloose,
Familiar as his garter”    —  (Shakespeare, Henry V)

For sometime now folks have treated me like I arrived at a reunion driving a $500 car.  I just generally ignored all of ’em but the exigency of our current situation demands change and it is time to cut the knot and socially acceptable behavior be damned.

To the politician wanting my vote, I will say I wish good dogs qualified for Public Office; we would all be better served.

To the bewildered parent,   I will say time – not money – is the investment required.

To the gal driving the old pickup — a tip of the hat and a big grin. She knows she looks good and I can damned sure acknowledge that  fact.

To the young adult with the pity party going on in his or her  head, I will say your ancestors sailed across oceans, walked across continents and died in wars.  Get your ass up off the couch.

To those that look to the government as their benevolent provider, I will say your day in the barrel is upon you and you are ill prepared.

To those that ask why I carry a  .45,  I will say because they don’ t make it in a .46.

To those that say I am self-righteous and proselytizing,  I say look to your own house and then get back to me.

To Miss Kathy I will say  I love your wit and candor.  I admire the way you fight each day to the end in fearless fashion.  Keep the beers cold and the whiskey out of the sun baby.

 

To those that ask what the future holds,  I say what is unfixable will not be made right.

 

 

End Note: Clicker by Terri Hendrix from Texas Unplugged Vol. 1.

“I need to get a life”

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8 comments to Don’t Let Your Cowboys Grow Up To Be Babies

  • Joel

    I agree, you don’t qualify as a curmudgeon. You’re just a cranky geezer, Andy.

    You need to travel. Get out of your tin box. Get out of Texas. There are a lot of us hardworking types out here in the real world who don’t feel the need to snipe at others. I’m happy with my life and I’m not ashamed to admit it. YMMV.

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  • Cait

    Crazy Clint Eastwood was the only one that really talked about Afghanistan– and he didn’t even brush his hair.

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  • Joel

    Yeah, that too. I can see you sitting there yelling “Hey! Git offa my lawn! Or gravel! Or dirt!”

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  • Clay

    You show up at my family reunion w a 500.00 car and I got a cold beer and a shot or 2 of Knob Creek for you. Been feeling the same way myself lately and the further it goes the less I give a tinkers damn. Bout the only thing that really matters any more is that grandson and his mother and Aunts and miss Stinky. Come mid Oct gonna pack it up and retire to lease for a couple months. Maybe get a little attitude adjustment. Maybe. Didn’t watch Eastwood. Didn’t watch any of it. Retired the Sat dish 2 years ago. Mostly trash anyways. Only thing I ever watched was those storm chasers on the Discovery channel. Only reason I watched that was because I wanted to see that nitwit chasing the tornadoes get sucked up into one. Never happened. So I quit watching. But in the meantime, we are watching this gate. It has slowed down some now that they finished the surface on all 3 wells and have settled into some serious drilling. All in all not a bad gig. Have only had one driver that we finally had to run off. Bad attitude all the way around with that guy and I got enough for everyone so I didn’t need any of his. Boss man sent his ass packing back to Mississippi where he came from. Hope he stays. Curmudgeon? Nah. I don’t see that in you. I see someone who knows how it ought to be and yet knows he is vastly out numbered but aint no way in a hot place he is ever gonna do the ole, “If you can’t beat em join em” routine! Keep it up you old fart! You and Miss Kathy are our kinda people!
    Clay

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  • Cait

    “I want to help the helpless, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about the clueless any more.”

    http://entertainment.nbcnews.com/_news/2012/08/28/13524756-dennis-miller-to-jay-leno-id-have-canceled-the-republican-convention?lite

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  • Joel

    “I want to help the helpless, but I don’t give a rat’s ass about the clueless any more.”

    LOL! I agree with the words. Of course, my notion of who is “clueless” differs. For reasons you can probably surmise, I’ll cheerfully stick to my understanding of who does and doesn’t have a clue.

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  • Queen Victoria ;)

    you are the cutest curmudgeon I’ve ever seen. And the least curmudgeony.

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