Dear Friends,I don’t talk enough about my two sons, Alan on the left, sitting on a Harley Fat Boy, which I shipped over from Kauai as a trade for his 4Runner, which is currently in front of a Starbucks in Decatur, Texas, and Aaron on the right (I think it's an Old Milwaukee) on Alan’s wakeboard boat in Lake Union, Seattle - on the 4th of July. Alan is 33 and during weekdays he's highly responsible for the inner-workings of the University of Phoenix website. The rest of the time we aren't sure where he is. Aaron, almost 30, is a skilled and hard working carpenter, and is usually pretty easy to find. They share a house in Ballard, Seattle and are a bit of an odd couple. Next time, maybe, I'll post pictures when they aren't waring shades, riding bad boy bikes and drinking bad beer on boats. My boys are the best!
It’s a cloudless Texas morning and I’m about an hour north of Fort Worth preparing for the very long drive up to Wichita Falls, just south of Oklahoma, and then west to Amarillo. After leaving Monroe, Louisiana, the first city I stopped at was Shreveport, on the Red River in Northwest Louisiana. By the way, the Red River goes north then west for hundreds of miles, separating Texas from Oklahoma, and then all the way to Amarillo. Maybe I should have taken the boat? The mural below was on an old building in downtown Shreveport - and I estimate it to be about 80 feet high.
Back in Chattanooga we were joking about those old cotton fields back home. The song went like this, “When I was a little bitty baby my mama would rock me in the cradle. In them old cottonfields back home. It was down in Louisiana just about a mile from Texarkana, in them old cottonfields back home." I mention this only because for some strange reason I wanted to be in Louisiana - just about a mile from Texarkana. Actually. Well, Texarkana is a Texas town bordering Arkansas, and not even in Louisiana. But he was just a bitty baby, so how would he know? But if I would have driven there, then I could have vou le vou'd west to Paris, Texas . . . in another blog I wrote about going to Paris . . . Texas. Oh well.
So I went to Dallas instead. Here’s a few pictures:
I just knocked the shit off my cowboy boots, and by golly I realized that I’m actually in Texas!
"I'm back in the saddle again, out where a friend is a friend,
Where the long horn cattle feed on the lonely jimson weed
I'm back in the saddle again.
Ridin' the range once more, totin' my old forty-four,
Where you sleep out every night and the only law is right,
Back in the saddle again.
Haha, yeah. Good luck finding a picture like that :)
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