The Trouble with Travel

Never fails that every time I travel to some distant spot, I fall in love with it and wonder why I am not living there. It has been that way all of my life. While I am not a big travel maven, I like seeing new places. Knowing that I fall in love with where ever I am, I have tried to keep my adventures to a minimum. No reason to invite dissatisfaction. My bud Bobby and I went to San Francisco for several days. That trip created such mental turmoil that I swore off venturing any farther than the local Wal-Mart for almost a year. I love San Francisco. And, I have absolutely no clue why I don’t pack up the truck and strike out today for that golden city on the bay. Just thinking about walking up and down those marvelous hills gives me pangs of anxiety. Why the hell am I here? I had similar adverse reactions after visiting Mexico, Costa Rica, the British Virgin Islands, practically any place in Texas, everywhere in the great Southwest, any place in the Rockies, the Smokies, the Ozarks, even Mobile and Montgomery. Now that I think about it, there are places I’ve visited I don’t want to live. I would not live in Detroit, Washington DC, Atlanta or Birmingham. All are failed cities. All of this is on my mind because I spent a week on the Gulf Coast last week. The whisper in my head asking why I was not living in Gulf Shores on Monday was a scream by Friday. And, predictably, I returned home and fell into a funk, wondering why I am still here. I went through the normal checklist of why I live in Welch. The farm. The Old Goat. Family and friends. St. Barnabas. The chickens. The dogs, cats and ducks. The peace and quiet. Ummm… If I left after lunch, I could toast a gorgeous sunset over Mobile Bay this afternoon with "that frozen concoction that helps me get through". The pull to change latitude is powerful. Ummm... Better get back on the tractor. The corn will not plant itself. Dammit.

Things Political

I am doing my best to stay away from things political. It is a difficult for me. I am a trained political scientist. PhD even. Not talking about things political is difficult for me, I hope you understand. Older I get the more I realize how much I don’t know. It is true that I spent most of my life reading books about politics and considering the grand questions but, truth is, I am no better informed of things political than any other citizen. What I have learned is that I am a single voice. I have an obligation to make that voice meaningful in direct proportion to the intent to which I want our society to be just and kind.

My faith in Jesus tells me that just and kind are things to be sought.

That leads me to the conclusion that I cannot hide my political feelings beneath a bushel. To shy away from difficult issues is to let chance decide fate. Do you truly believe that your vote is essential in an election? I do. Never doubted that how I voted mattered.

Voting means there is opinion. Since I vote, I have opinions. In several entries here I have expressed some of my opinions. Those opinions did not resonate well with some of my closest friends. Sadly, they are no longer friends. I miss them mucho. But, keeping my friends would have meant that I stay away from things political. And, while I am doing my best to do so, I am battling my responsibilities as a citizen to decide elections and make difficult selections. As a citizen, I have to make judgments. I was assailed once because I was judgmental. Well, yes, I am. I have opinions. Some of my opinions are particularly important to me. To betray them by renouncing what I truly believe is a big lie. It is dishonest. So, I had friends who would remain my friend if I would lie, betray my honest judgment of a politician or policy. Much to my regret, I sacrificed the friend.

So, what are some of those simple truths that I believe? Here is one that I expressed several times before: Obama is an amateur and should be defeated. He is a community organizer, nothing more. Here are more. Joe Biden is an idiot. Partitioning Iraq? Global tax? He is the crown prince of zany. The Tea-baggers are unguided missiles, the American version of the Taliban. George W was not the moron that the Left portrayed him. In fact, the democratization of Iraq will eventually be determined to be the root trigger for the Arab Spring. It will take a generation of Bush-hating historians to pass before the real history is written. Never trust the historians of the present. History is like bread. It has to proof before it is edible. Few, if any, in Congress deserve being reelected. Most ought to be declared hazards to the State. Chaney, if tried, would deserve the title war criminal.

There, that should be enough to convince what few friends I have left that I have lost my mind and deserve renunciation. Oddly, I feel better for admitting my citizenship with all the incumbent responsibilities. I am a citizen and I vote. I care deeply for our country. I will not permit tempered acceptance to dictate how I care for our democracy.

Some things deserve a festival

If he were not 86 years old and having difficulty remembering where he put his teeth, the Would-be Mayor of Welch would have declared today a celebration in the community. He did not but it did not interfere with the festive mood that infects my little wide-place in the road. Today marks the Return of the Bodines.

American progress has its champions: Whitney, Fulton, Edison, Ford, Jobs. Lost among such giants is that humble agricultural engineer and backwoods hobbyist, Jethro Bodine. Or, at least, that is what the folklore is around here. Perplexed by how to assist a tomato to grow upwards instead of creeping along the ground being the vine it is, some scholars might speculate that Bodine undertook rigorous examination of a variety of structures that would provide support without doing any harm to the tender tomato. After hours, maybe even minutes, of experimentation, so the story goes, Bodine happened upon using the lowly privet with which he assembled the now-famous Bodine Tomato Cage. As everyone knows, privet is the sworn enemy of all that is decent and just. Eliminating it is a virtue of the highest order. The genius of Jethro Bodine was his ability to transition beyond the mundane and view the lowly privet as a tool to serve a higher purpose. His inspiration was an instant success in Welch. Numerous neighboring farmers, possibly numbering as many as seven and certainly as many as one, threw themselves into copying the design and gaining insights into construction techniques at the foot of the master inventor. Since those halcyon days, Bodine Tomato Cages are a common sight in Welch and in the surrounding burbs.

The Return of the Bodines signifies the real coming of Spring. The Bodines are brought out of storage and strategically placed over the newly planted tomatoes. During the growing season, these clever structures will provide support for the ripening fruit. It is a day that transforms the garden from field to treasure. The day could be marked by marching bands, pretty little girls twirling batons and intoxicated fireman driving their shiney equipment through downtown Welch, assuming there were one. Perhaps someday it will. In the meantime, the absence of fireworks, fly-overs, political speeches and bar-be-que does not diminish the excitement of the Return of the Bodines to the fields. They mean warm days, ice tea under the oak tree, fishing instead of hoeing, screen doors, and fans. The Return of the Bodines is one of the best days of the year.