Poor, Poor, Pitiful Lou...

Lou sat on the front porch of his parents home in Ann Arbor loving the beautiful weather but brooding about his lot in life. After two years of intense physical therapy his doctor had declared him as well as he was ever going to be. If he had been in Texas the doc would probably have said he was "fit as a fiddle". TWO YEARS! How could two years have gone by without even one step in the positive direction of getting his life going again. He thought his life was half used up at twenty-five and he was leaving Fort Worth on the ill-fated bus ride to Alpine. He thought at that time he had used up all his allotted stupid ideas and he could jump start a new life. Now he gloomily considered his current state: Twenty-seven, still no education, still no job, and worst of all, still living with and depending on his parents. Something has to happen.....NOW!!

Taking an inventory of his newest bad decisions he realized his biggest mistake since being carted home from Abilene in the back of his parents' rented van was in not starting back to school when his dad offered to pay for it. If he had he would be well on his way to a four year bachelors degree in....what?! What would he have majored in since his aeronautical engineering path bit the dust at UTA? As he lay in the hospital in Abilene after surgery, Lou was sure he knew what he wanted to do with his life. The emergency response team in Fort Davis had taken such good care of him he had decided to pursue a career as a paramedic. It seemed so far back in time though, he didn't have the same burning desire to do it. Maybe being a super hero wasn't in the cards for Lou. But Lou, old boy, you better come up with an idea soon. The money he received from Greyhound Bus Lines after the accident wasn't going to last forever. His good graces with his parents would fade as well now that he was declared healthy. They wanted to retire and travel and he understood. He didn't want to stay in Michigan. Texas was home and he ached to be back where it was scorching hot most of year, except for the two or three days in late March called "spring". Maybe he should widen his view of available options.....no, Texas it was to be even if he couldn't explain it to his own satisfaction.

A few days later, Lou finished packing up his few personal possessions into the back of the 2007 Kia Sportage his dad had given him, obviously out of pity. The car had been Lou's mom's car and rather than use it as a valueless trade-in, his dad opted to let poor old Lou have it before taking delivery of the new Chevrolet Suburban they had bought for their travels. After all the good-byes, hugs, tears, and uncontrolled gleeful jumping around by his parents, Lou fired up the old Kia and headed for....."home".

Lou decided he wanted to try west Texas again so he set his sights, and GPS of course, on Fort Davis. Maybe this time his luck would be better. Since his window of opportunity for a college education had closed, in his own mind anyway, he thought he might enjoy working at a hardware store. That's where he would start anyway if, and this was a big IF, the old Kia made it that far. It did. He had a few worries along the way and had to buy new front tires in St. Louis, replace a worn strut in Memphis, and worry about overheating all the way from Big Spring to Pecos. He did make it though and the old car was still chugging along as he pulled into the little motel in Fort Davis he would call home until he found a cheap apartment.

After a couple days rest and stretching exercises for his mended leg, Lou headed to the largest hardware store in town in hopes of snagging a job of some sort. He was told by the pretty girl at the cash register that the manager was gone for the day but it didn't matter because they weren't doing any hiring at the moment. Well, so much for improved luck! She did say a few customers posted job openings on the bulletin board next to the entrance if he wanted to take a look on his way out. There wasn't much there. He didn't like the idea of digging fence post holes for the two ranches needing help and mowing Miss Ethyl's yard for the summer wasn't going to cover expenses. He did stop at one listing though. There was a guy in town building a new garage with overhead apartment in the back of his house. The job only paid $20/hour when working, which meant he might go days without any pay. The interesting part of the listing though said, "owner will provide room and board for single man, or young married couple, no kids or pets please!" Lou had none of the above. He also had absolutely no experience in carpentry either but how hard could it possibly be to learn. He decided to apply for the job! He wrote down the information, "for inquiries, call Bert at 555-1212".

Alarming News!!

I was watching one of Debbie's favorite Vlogs on YouTube yesterday. Oh, no I wasn't watching it by myself. Had it been me turning on the TV, we would have been watching "Gunsmoke". However, Debbie got to the remote first so there we sat, watching another episode of "Let's Bore Russell To Tears". 

During this informative Vlog, it was mentioned with an embarrassed chuckle that this Vlogger used to be a Blogger! Can you imagine?! She informed us no one ever Blogs anymore....what a waste of effort on a primitive way to tell a story! I had no idea.....I sincerely apologize for my antiquated method of story-telling and I appreciate each of you who have continued to read this appalling site. Oh well, I couldn't figure out how to create a second blog a few months ago so it's a pretty good bet I'll never figure out Vlogging. If you'll stick with me maybe we can muddle through together.

Back when the earth was still cooling and dinosaurs roamed the area, I was a skinny, invisible student at West Hurst Elementary. I loved West Hurst Elementary. I was moved there from South Hurst Elementary as soon as the doors to the new school swung open. What a treat! The best part of the whole thing was this new school backed up to "the woods". The woods designated the end of the world to those of us brought up in the fairly new suburb of Hurst. We had never been allowed to venture past the open pasture into the woods for fear we would fall off the edge of the world. We played baseball and fought native Americans, which we callously called "Indians", in our beloved field. We were a bit upset when bulldozers began clearing a large part of that field to build a stupid school. Our anger was quelled when we saw the new ball diamond with a real backstop included with the new school campus. Also, tether ball courts were installed. If you don't know about tether ball you are probably a lonely, sad, and empty sort of soul. The best part of the whole thing was most of the pasture and all of the woods were left intact. The fine elected officials serving on the school board still used good sense back then.

The second best part of moving to the new school was the kindness of the builder to leave ALL the big boxes the furnaces came in. I almost said 'the boxes the air conditioners came in' but remembered the era. Schools weren't air conditioned back then...silly writer. Those had to be furnace boxes. They were way too big to hold anything else. Anyway, whatever they were soon became the favorite attraction of every boy and some of the girls newly enrolled. Our recess time became "jump in a box and roll down the hill", over and over again. To clarify, the school was situated fairly close to the road and the field sloped down pretty drastically before leveling off at the new ball park. A worthy student could get up to a good, albeit dangerous, roll before banging into the backstop at the bottom. It was a wonderful way to spend a recess....good exercise, excitement, sweat, dirt....I still miss it!

One day one of my classmates, Rodney something, decided it was time to take a turn in a box roll. Rodney had started the school year out on crutches from a broken leg and although he still had the crutches he felt confident he could do it. I was dragging my box back up the hill when I saw Rodney climb into his box for his first trip down the hill. The launch was courtesy of a couple of sixth graders with less than honorable intentions. Rodney came down that hill over and over at a speed unknown to us experienced box rollers. His first crutch flew from the box after the first tumble. His second made it to the third roll. After that it was just Rodney, a broken leg, and intense screaming left in the box. Poor guy. He really shouldn't have done that. He got carried off to the hospital to have that leg reset and we were banned from all future box rolls down the hill. Someone on the school staff carted the boxes off to the dump that night and they were never seen again. So sad....oh sure, we were sorry for Rodney too but doggone it, he should have known better.

After the Rodney incident our recesses were limited to softball...not even real ball but SOFTball of all things. We could opt for tether ball but since none of us knew what that was we stuck to softball. A lot of the girls decided to let an ambitious, and obviously newly graduated teacher, coach them on how to play tether ball. Within just a few days all the tether ball posts were in use and lines formed for a turn at what was undoubtedly one of the best games ever! Soon, even the guys were wandering away from the ball field to get a turn at tether ball. I eventually caved and got in line myself after watching all the glee coming from those six tether ball posts for a week or so. Oh my goodness! I had never played anything as much fun as tether ball. It became an obsession for all of us and fights eventually broke out as newcomers tried to "buck the line". If you don't understand the phrase 'buck the line', you have led a deprived and lonely life I'm sorry to say.

Some days it was too rainy for tether ball. The courts were just too muddy to allow us to play. The cold days however were perfect for the game because it hurt like the dickens to punch that ball with frigid hands. Most girls and some of the sissy boys chose to stay indoors on cold days. I, and most of my really manly friends would be out there for a good tether ball workout regardless of the cold...and we didn't have to let anyone else play....no lines....silly girls. By spring, we were tether ball masters. We could not be beaten. My dad installed a tether ball post in our backyard and the only way I could be beaten was if one of my sibs complained I was hogging the post...or if my next door neighbor Sandy came over to play. She could put me in my place real fast. Thinking back on it, I'm not real sure Sandy was really a girl. She may have been a guy who always wore dresses and beat me at everything we attempted. She even hit me with a left hand hook one day causing me to see stars and hear little birds chirping around my head. I loved that girl but I kept it a secret for fear she might just be a guy. The last I heard, Sandy was a full professor of math at the university, married, with three very mean and tough little girls. She probably still plays tether ball and beats up neighbors. You just never know for sure....

Leaving West Hurst Elementary to go to Hurst Jr. High was tough. I did miss recess but before too much time had passed I discovered a new interest....girls. And so the story continued....