Well, Kit and I are back from another week on the road. This time out through the central Texas Hill Country, then down among the old German and Spanish settlements below San Antonio. As requested, I brought you all some snapshots:

---------------

Hell, boy. Why're you goin' back there?

It ain't nothin' but dry.

You know even the air

Is half dust and half sky.

------------------------

Along the Llano River it can be a hard land.

A small graveyard now marks Baby Head, Texas. Here, in a crueler century, a band of Texacans attempting to rescue captive children from a raiding party of Amerindians, were disheartened to find a baby's head left for them upon a stake.

Along the Llano it can be a hard land.

--------------

He was now an old man. Part Mexican, part coyote, part cowboy. The history of South Texas was written in the lines around his eyes. He had put away his summer straw, for his black felt, and he tucked his pant legs into boot-tops as was the custom of men in this country of mesquite and weesatch. He glanced at us when he entered, and gave us a wide berth. He was not easy with the idea of a retarded kid.

-------------

The place was named "Mom's", and Mom was named Yolanda. It had been added on to at least twice, and was still tiny. The clock on the wall was slow. By two decades.

Yolanda was a large, graceful woman, and her face carried the reminder of her Mayan ancestors. Kit drank his milk, and showed her his muscles. She laughed and they compared bicepts. Her smile suddenly faded, and with a tenderness distilled through a thousand maternal generations, she kissed him softly on the cheek.

-------------------

The water is born here.

And leaps cold from it's limestone womb.

The joints of the Pecans creak with desire for slumber,

Live Oaks watch men pass under heavy brows.

------------------

I've always felt an affinity for live oaks. There was a field here when I was little, with a single live oak in it's center. It was a solitary giant, ancient and hollow. Bees lived in it, along with with my imagination. I remember the day the bulldozer pushed it down, to make room for houses. I stood in the road and cried. But then, I was only a kid, and didn't know better.

------------------

The furniture store was having a Saturday Morning Sale. Two young girls in cheerleader costumes were out front, with a man in a gorilla suit. There must be a lesson here, I'm just not sure what it is.

-----------------

Once again, I watched for signs of Y2K awareness. And once again, I saw almost nothing. Either we doomers will be very wrong in our apprehensions, or we as a society, will be very screwed. Of course, it is hard to learn anything from a motel room, and people seldom discuss things like Y2K preparations with strangers (especially in small South Texas towns). But, glaringly missing was any sign of organized campaign for information (or misinformation). No leadership either way.

Is Y2K already old news? Or is it so bewildering that no one wants to acknowledge it's existence? One thing's for sure; no one wants to go on record as pessimistic or worried or even concerned. I've never felt so disconnected.

And once again, thank you all for your indulgence of my off-topic thread. It seems I have little more to say on-topic. My world appears to be shrinking; sometimes populated by only Kit and I.

This last journey was more tiring than I expected. Because, I suppose, it covered so much of the land where I spent my youth. I have struggled with the images to bring back; the weight of memories over-tipping the balance of observation.

(I grow weary of this fight, although the drums of battle can only now be heard beyond the horizon)

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), November 14, 1999

Answers

Once again, outstanding writing Lon!

-- CD (not@here.com), November 14, 1999.

Lon,

You are a very astute writer sir. I have spent lots of time in the areas you speak about, and I am thinking about a Stonewall peach at this very moment. (MMMMMM....) The retirement town of choice for me, someday, is Wimberley, Tx.. Deep in the Texas hill country and just small enough where you know all your neighbors. Some very pleasant times there... Thanks for the nostalgia....

snoozin'...

The Dog

-- Dog (Desert Dog@-sand.com), November 15, 1999.

Lon,

Know that you world is DEFINETLY populated by at least one more Greybear. That world is not, in my opinion, shrinking. The boundries of that world are just becoming more apparent. I started to see the boundries of the real world 30 years ago as a cop. It has taken the last two years to define them clearly.

It has always been the case that some can "see" with thier imagination while others must wait to see with thier eyes. The time is probably coming when what we see with our eyes will be very ugly. Hopefully what some have "seen" with thier imagination ahead of time will have helped them survive and postion them to help others.

Also, as a pure bred Texan, I really enjoyed your snippets from Texas life.

-Greybear

-- Got Anything?

-- Greybear (greybear@home.com), November 15, 1999.

Lon, please except my gratitude for taking me down memory lane with your beautiful words. During the 80s I lived in the Texas Hill Country and it was the best of times. I had a nice home outside of San Marcos (on the way to Blanco/Wimberly) and an A-frame on the Guadeloupe River outside of New Braunfels (Little Ponderosa area). For those of you that have not experienced this area it is truly one of our nations crown jewels. Canyon Lake, Devils Backbone, Aquarina Springs, Wonder World, and of course the two major party events each year..WurstFest the Chili Cook-off.

-- Truth (at@the.ready), November 15, 1999.

DANG

I wish the computer would let me see what you folks are posting on this thread. It shows some answers, but when I open it, there's nothing.

I just KNOW there iare several heaps of adolation. Probably a marriage proposal or two. Or, at the very least, some parents wanting me to raise their children for them.

I been expectin' them to call about that Professor's job over at BIT (Bayou Institute of Technology), and maybe, just MAYBE, (even though it's kinda a long shot), those fine folks over at the Nobel prize for literature.

Ah, well I guess I'll just have to wait for Phil to get this thing to working again. But in the mean time, I think I'll go get fitted for a tux, you know, just in case.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), November 15, 1999.

All, right, I'll admit I'm a little embarrassed about the Nobel thing. Maybe they just put the check in the mail, ya think?

Anyway, I'm glad I finally got back into the thread to find a note from the illusive Greybear! And my old friend, the desert Dog.

How about we all join up with "truth" at New Braunfels, and catch the afternoon performance of Ralph, the Diving Pig over at the Springs? (Sigh), They just don't make entertainment like that anymore.

I'll buy the bratwurst, if Greybear picks up the beer.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), November 15, 1999.

Lon, I have it on good authority that Ralph has retired and was given an honorary faculty chair at SWT. I would suggest we all get together at Gruene Hall for a game of Shoes out in the back. Or, how about Nephews on the square in San Marcos?

-- Truth (at@the.ready), November 15, 1999.

Welcome back, Lawn! I'm glad to see you're as irrepressible as ever and that you write as movingly as always before. We missed at the FRL - better check 'em out to see what you missed ;-) My best to Kit.

-- Tricia the Canuck (tricia_canuck@hotmail.com), November 15, 1999.

Trish,

I posted to the FRL, early this morning, but it never appeared. Seems like the place is absolutely infested with poets.

I'm saddened to hear that Ralph has gone the way of so many entertainment legends. Perhaps someday he'll run for office.

Oh, and CD, I didn't mean to slight you, my friend. Grab your snitzel and come on along!

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), November 15, 1999.

Great read Lon!

Lots of imagery, got to love it!

-- Brian (iamger@home.com), November 15, 1999.

Lon, thanks for sharing a part of your heart. It's painful sometimes, isn't it? Your writing and your thoughts are beautiful!

-- Gayla (privacy@please.com), November 16, 1999.

Lon, ol' buddy, I'll buy the beer anywhere, anytime (long as it's south of the Red). Missed you sense of humor and that big red nose.

Seriously, send email via private chanel and let's talk.

ol_grey_bear would admire to chat with you, you yahoo.

-Greybear

-- Got Et tu Fey?

-- Greybear (greybear@home.com), November 16, 1999.

Brian, and Gayla, thanks. There is nothing so nice as a compliment from someone you admire.

Greybear, sent e-mail as requested. If it doesn't work, my address is correct. Have your people tell my people for us to do lunch. Maybe we could even get Gayla to show up and let HER pay for the beer.

-- Lon Frank (lgal@exp.net), November 16, 1999.