Jim Jones's Blog

50 posts!

I can’t remember exactly why I decided to write this blog. I know it seemed like a good idea at the time. After having done it weekly for a full year, it still seems like it was a good idea. It made me think. It made me pay attention. It made me look for a balance between the serious and the silly; between the sentimental and the cynical; between the personal and the global.
It’s hard work trying to come up with something you think is worth saying on a weekly basis. Before I ever started posting my blog, I wrote ten articles so that I had a nice two and a half month backlog of material. I figured that was a comfortable cushion that would take the pressure off and I could leisurely write a new article every week or two while staying ahead of the curve. Right. Within three and a half months, I was dead even. I wound up writing most of my articles from May until the present time on the Monday night before I was due to post them on Tuesday morning. On occasion, I actually wrote them on Tuesday morning. Sometimes I had an idea all week long but just didn’t get around to writing about it until the last minute. Sometimes I didn’t have a clue as to what I would write about until I sat down at my keyboard. Sometimes I didn’t know how I would manage to squeeze out 800 words about my chosen topic. Sometimes I didn’t know how I could limit it to 800 words when there seemed to be so much more to say.
After doing this for a year, I’ve come away with a new-found respect for all those individuals who write weekly columns. I always loved Dave Barry’s work but for a long time, I resented him for retiring. Now I can’t imagine how he did it so well for so long. In case you didn’t know it, writing is hard work, folks. If you don’t believe me, try doing it. For four weeks, set a deadline for yourself and try to write 800 words about something that you think is meaningful. It’s not easy! It’s also good for you.
I hope that some of the articles I wrote made you smile or brought a tear to your eye. On the humorous side, I was partial to “Climate Change” (my marriage survived that one!) and “Snakes” (my friendship with Sheriff Jim Wilson survived that one). Probably my favorite article that I wrote was on the “Importance of Dogs.” I ran it a second time just a couple of weeks ago when I had been too sick to come up with anything new and my timing couldn’t have been more perfect. Shortly after that, Pope Francis confirmed what most of us have always known…all dogs go to heaven. I wonder if he read my blog? You’d think he would have left a comment. He is a pretty busy guy though so I guess I’ll forgive him. Since he seems to be all about tolerance and forgiveness, I guess it’s only fair that I extend the same courtesy to him.
It’s also my hope that perhaps something I wrote about made you stop and think, and perhaps even consider something from a different perspective. I would like to believe that my blog articles were just a part of a dialogue with you, the readers. We need more dialogue. We have a great deal to learn from each other. These days, it seems to me that too many people act like they already know everything. Knowing all the answers gets in the way of learning anything new. Many years of marriage has made it clear to me that I don’t have all the answers. Heck, I’m still trying to get clear on the questions.
I’m going to take a break from this blog to re-charge my batteries and get this next CD project completed. I don’t know when or even if I’ll get back to doing this on a regular basis. I do know that it has been a positive experience for me, sharpening my writing skills and forcing me to pay attention and consider things that I think matter. I hope you’ve enjoyed the experience as well. I was pleased and honored to have two of my blog articles published. “Old Blevins” was included in the Western Music Associations magazine, the Western Way and my article on 9/11, “Let’s Roll,” was featured in the Albuquerque Journal this year on September 11th. If I get the energy and get organized (two mighty big Ifs!), I might actually compile these essays into a book. You never know. If you came late to the party and want to catch up, you can find all of my blogs at http://jimjonesmusic.tumblr.com/

I can’t remember exactly why I decided to write this blog.  I know it seemed like a good idea at the time.  After having done it weekly for a full year, it still seems like it was a good idea.  It made me think.  It made me pay attention.  It made me look for a balance between the serious and the silly; between the sentimental and the cynical; between the personal and the global.

It’s hard work trying to come up with something you think is worth saying on a weekly basis.  Before I ever started posting my blog, I wrote ten articles so that I had a nice two and a half month backlog of material.  I figured that was a comfortable cushion that would take the pressure off and I could leisurely write a new article every week or two while staying ahead of the curve.  Right.  Within three and a half months, I was dead even.  I wound up writing most of my articles from May until the present time on the Monday night before I was due to post them on Tuesday morning.  On occasion, I actually wrote them on Tuesday morning.  Sometimes I had an idea all week long but just didn’t get around to writing about it until the last minute.  Sometimes I didn’t have a clue as to what I would write about until I sat down at my keyboard.  Sometimes I didn’t know how I would manage to squeeze out 800 words about my chosen topic.  Sometimes I didn’t know how I could limit it to 800 words when there seemed to be so much more to say.

After doing this for a year, I’ve come away with a new-found respect for all those individuals who write weekly columns.  I always loved Dave Barry’s work but for a long time, I resented him for retiring.  Now I can’t imagine how he did it so well for so long.  In case you didn’t know it, writing is hard work, folks.  If you don’t believe me, try doing it.  For four weeks, set a deadline for yourself and try to write 800 words about something that you think is meaningful.  It’s not easy!  It’s also good for you.

I hope that some of the articles I wrote made you smile or brought a tear to your eye.  On the humorous side, I was partial to “Climate Change” (my marriage survived that one!) and “Snakes” (my friendship with Sheriff Jim Wilson survived that one).  Probably my favorite article that I wrote was on the “Importance of Dogs.”  I ran it a second time just a couple of weeks ago when I had been too sick to come up with anything new and my timing couldn’t have been more perfect.  Shortly after that, Pope Francis confirmed what most of us have always known…all dogs go to heaven.  I wonder if he read my blog?  You’d think he would have left a comment.  He is a pretty busy guy though so I guess I’ll forgive him.  Since he seems to be all about tolerance and forgiveness, I guess it’s only fair that I extend the same courtesy to him.

It’s also my hope that perhaps something I wrote about made you stop and think, and perhaps even consider something from a different perspective.  I would like to believe that my blog articles were just a part of a dialogue with you, the readers.  We need more dialogue.  We have a great deal to learn from each other.  These days, it seems to me that too many people act like they already know everything.  Knowing all the answers gets in the way of learning anything new.  Many years of marriage has made it clear to me that I don’t have all the answers.  Heck, I’m still trying to get clear on the questions. 

I’m going to take a break from this blog to re-charge my batteries and get this next CD project completed.  I don’t know when or even if I’ll get back to doing this on a regular basis.  I do know that it has been a positive experience for me, sharpening my writing skills and forcing me to pay attention and consider things that I think matter.  I hope you’ve enjoyed the experience as well.  I was pleased and honored to have two of my blog articles published.  “Old Blevins” was included in the Western Music Associations magazine, the Western Way and my article on 9/11, “Let’s Roll,” was featured in the Albuquerque Journal this year on September 11th.  If I get the energy and get organized (two mighty big Ifs!), I might actually compile these essays into a book.  You never know.  If you came late to the party and want to catch up, you can find all of my blogs at http://jimjonesmusic.tumblr.com/  

Well, it’s already started…people complaining on Facebook about the “thought police,” those enforcers of political correctness, telling us we can’t wish people Merry Christmas. We can’t risk offending anyone. So I started wondering who “they” were, these folks infringing on my freedom of speech. Is there, in fact, a “they”?? I’ve never in my life had anyone tell me they were offended when I said “Merry Christmas” to them. Maybe “they” are out there but so far, “they” have left me alone. I mostly just hear people complaining about “them.”
Here’s a thought…forget about it! If it’s really a problem at all, it’s miniscule compared to the very real problems we face all year round. At Christmas time, maybe we’d be better off focusing on what’s important; that is, what the real message of the season is. Peace on earth, good will towards your fellow humans, the joy on a child’s face when he sees Santa Claus. Why don’t we let our righteous indignation take a holiday and focus on giving of ourselves with an open heart? To me, that’s the spirit of Christmas. Anyone who has a problem with that is pretty much of a Grinch anyway. The heck with’em. Here’s a poem from my friend, Mike Moutoux, that I think describes the Christmas spirit just fine.

Christmas at the Line Shack
Mike Moutoux, Nov. 2003

‘Twas Christmas Eve, the sun has set and dark was drawing near
I was all alone at the ranch line-shack, a turn for which I liked to volunteer
When you’re 50 years old and single, town ain’t the place to be
There’s too much family goins-on, it’s just better if I’m out there on Christmas Eve

Been doin’ this for fifteen years, the others think I’m kind
But without the colored lights or holiday bustle, it helps take the whole thing off my mind
Out there, it’s just me and the cows and a horse for company
No mistletoe, no nativity scene, no gigglin’ children on Santa’s knee

I’d spent the day out on a stretch of fence. Where it was broke, I got down and fixed it
Busted some ice in the crick so the cows could drink, now for supper, coffee, beans, and a biscuit
About then the wind started blowin’ and ridin’ it a strange kind of noise
It was almost like voices, like singin’, like a choir of girls and boys

I grabbed my coat and stepped outside, though dark, I could see just fine
It was a group of riders each holdin’ a lantern, strung out in a great big line
They were comin’ down the slope, followin’ the contours of the ground
Like a herd of snowflakes glowin’ from within, they were swirlin’ all around

I stood there in quiet amazement; it was really quite a thrill
All them riders singing, those yellow lights dancin’ as they wound down the snow- covered hill
They all gathered at the shack, it was there I could finally see
My neighbors, my friends, and their families all dismountin’ and smilin’ at me

“Well,” says I, “Ain’t this a surprise, ain’t you folks got Christmas to do?”
“Yes we have,” says a voice in the back, “but first we’re bringin’ Christmas to you.”
It seems they’d been to church that day and heard what the first Christmas was like
Afterwards, they were talkin’ about good will to men, when someone said, “You know, we should go visit Mike.”

Now they didn’t stay long, but long enough to fill that cabin and my heart with their good will
But the best gift of all is the memory of them riders in the dark, on that snow-covered hill
~
No matter what this time of year means to you, I hope you get to spend quality time with family and friends. I hope you can bring a smile to the face of a child. I hope you remember that it really is better to give than to receive. And I hope you keep in mind that all of these things are just as meaningful throughout the year. Merry Christmas, y’all.

Well, it’s already started…people complaining on Facebook about the “thought police,” those enforcers of political correctness, telling us we can’t wish people Merry Christmas.  We can’t risk offending anyone.  So I started wondering who “they” were, these folks infringing on my freedom of speech.  Is there, in fact, a “they”??  I’ve never in my life had anyone tell me they were offended when I said “Merry Christmas” to them.  Maybe “they” are out there but so far, “they” have left me alone.  I mostly just hear people complaining about “them.”

Here’s a thought…forget about it!  If it’s really a problem at all, it’s miniscule compared to the very real problems we face all year round.  At Christmas time, maybe we’d be better off focusing on what’s important; that is, what the real message of the season is.  Peace on earth, good will towards your fellow humans, the joy on a child’s face when he sees Santa Claus.  Why don’t we let our righteous indignation take a holiday and focus on giving of ourselves with an open heart?  To me, that’s the spirit of Christmas.  Anyone who has a problem with that is pretty much of a Grinch anyway.  The heck with’em.  Here’s a poem from my friend, Mike Moutoux, that I think describes the Christmas spirit just fine.

Christmas at the Line Shack

Mike Moutoux, Nov. 2003

 
‘Twas Christmas Eve, the sun has set and dark was drawing near

I was all alone at the ranch line-shack, a turn for which I liked to volunteer

When you’re 50 years old and single, town ain’t the place to be

There’s too much family goins-on, it’s just better if I’m out there on Christmas Eve

Been doin’ this for fifteen years, the others think I’m kind

But without the colored lights or holiday bustle, it helps take the whole thing off my mind

Out there, it’s just me and the cows and a horse for company

No mistletoe, no nativity scene, no gigglin’ children on Santa’s knee

I’d spent the day out on a stretch of fence.  Where it was broke, I got down and fixed it

Busted some ice in the crick so the cows could drink, now for supper, coffee, beans, and a biscuit

About then the wind started blowin’ and ridin’ it a strange kind of noise

It was almost like voices, like singin’, like a choir of girls and boys

I grabbed my coat and stepped outside, though dark, I could see just fine

It was a group of riders each holdin’ a lantern, strung out in a great big line

They were comin’ down the slope, followin’ the contours of the ground

Like a herd of snowflakes glowin’ from within, they were swirlin’ all around

I stood there in quiet amazement; it was really quite a thrill

All them riders singing, those yellow lights dancin’ as they wound down the snow- covered hill

They all gathered at the shack, it was there I could finally see

My neighbors, my friends, and their families all dismountin’ and smilin’ at me

“Well,” says I, “Ain’t this a surprise, ain’t you folks got Christmas to do?”

“Yes we have,” says a voice in the back, “but first we’re bringin’ Christmas to you.”

It seems they’d been to church that day and heard what the first Christmas was like

Afterwards, they were talkin’ about good will to men, when someone said, “You know, we should go visit Mike.”

Now they didn’t stay long, but long enough to fill that cabin and my heart with their good will

But the best gift of all is the memory of them riders in the dark, on that snow-covered hill

~

No matter what this time of year means to you, I hope you get to spend quality time with family and friends.  I hope you can bring a smile to the face of a child.  I hope you remember that it really is better to give than to receive.  And I hope you keep in mind that all of these things are just as meaningful throughout the year.  Merry Christmas, y’all.  

I recently watched a special on Peter, Paul & Mary which was put together after Mary’s death five years ago. While I continue to find Peter Yarrow to be smug, arrogant and self-righteous, I’ve always enjoyed Noel Paul Stookey and since I was about fifteen years old, I’ve been in love with Mary Travers. Not only was she gorgeous, she sang with a passion and fire that just blew me away. I got the sense that she really cared about the things she sang about. In this retrospective special, they looked at the many social causes Peter, Paul & Mary advocated for and the risks they took by supporting issues that were not necessarily popular. They were immensely successful commercially and it would have been very easy for them to sit back and remain comfortably neutral. They chose not to do that. You may not agree with the issues they supported but you can’t fault them for their sincerity and courage. They cared.
My friend Randy Huston is an excellent singer and songwriter. He’s been a publisher in Nashville and continues to be passionate about the music he writes and sings. As passionate as he is about this however, he is even more passionate about his life as a rancher and cowboy. He works harder than just about anyone I know (except a few other cowboys) and he deals head on with the harsh New Mexico elements and the dangers inherent in his work on a daily basis. His is both an intellectual commitment…he believes strongly in the value of the livestock industry…and a deep emotional connection to the land and the cowboy way of life. He once told me that a person would have to love it in order to do what he does, otherwise they would be crazy. Randy clearly loves what he does. He may be crazy, too, but that doesn’t change the fact that he loves his life. He cares.
In some circles, it is fashionable and hip to be blasé. “Whatever.” Roll of the eyes. While I tend to associate this type of behavior with adolescence, I also see too many adults who adopt this pose. With teenagers, it comes with the territory and many of them will outgrow it. I’m afraid that’s not the case with adults. We should be beyond posing. I think maybe it feels safer to pretend like nothing much matters to you. If you don’t care, you don’t get disappointed when what you care about doesn’t work out. You dream small or worse, you don’t dream at all. You just amble through life going through the motions without ever investing your emotions. If you don’t take risks, you don’t get let down. You also don’t accomplish much and you don’t experience that exhilarating thrill that accompanies the passionate pursuit of your dreams. You don’t dare to care.
We’ve been through some difficult economic times in the past seven years, which tends to make people circle the wagons and not take financial risks. While I understand that, I think the danger is that this “safe” stance can become pervasive and infect our overall approach to life. For young people just starting out in their adult lives, it’s compounded by the fact that there really are fewer opportunities available than there once were. If you get your education and do things the “right way,” you’re supposed to be able to dream big. It’s a lot tougher to do that these days. It’s an interesting dilemma. One way to view it is that if the opportunities aren’t present, you can’t dream about taking advantage of them so there’s no point in caring.
Another way to look at it though is that if you dream big dreams, you’ll make your own opportunities. I’m not saying it’s easy or that everyone will succeed. I am saying that if you are passionate about what you want to do with your life, if you take chances even though you’re scared, if you’re resilient enough to get back up when life knocks you down, you may just find yourself succeeding where others fail…and many don’t even try. In fact, you’ll wind up changing your definition of success. It’s not an end point, it’s a journey. If you wake up most days raring to take on the world, passionate about what you’re doing, a little scared but excited at the same time, you’re LIVING! Otherwise, you’re just existing. So…who cares?

I recently watched a special on Peter, Paul & Mary which was put together after Mary’s death five years ago.  While I continue to find Peter Yarrow to be smug, arrogant and self-righteous, I’ve always enjoyed Noel Paul Stookey and since I was about fifteen years old, I’ve been in love with Mary Travers.  Not only was she gorgeous, she sang with a passion and fire that just blew me away.  I got the sense that she really cared about the things she sang about.  In this retrospective special, they looked at the many social causes Peter, Paul & Mary advocated for and the risks they took by supporting issues that were not necessarily popular.  They were immensely successful commercially and it would have been very easy for them to sit back and remain comfortably neutral.  They chose not to do that.  You may not agree with the issues they supported but you can’t fault them for their sincerity and courage.  They cared.

My friend Randy Huston is an excellent singer and songwriter.  He’s been a publisher in Nashville and continues to be passionate about the music he writes and sings.  As passionate as he is about this however, he is even more passionate about his life as a rancher and cowboy.  He works harder than just about anyone I know (except a few other cowboys) and he deals head on with the harsh New Mexico elements and the dangers inherent in his work on a daily basis.  His is both an intellectual commitment…he believes strongly in the value of the livestock industry…and a deep emotional connection to the land and the cowboy way of life.  He once told me that a person would have to love it in order to do what he does, otherwise they would be crazy.  Randy clearly loves what he does.  He may be crazy, too, but that doesn’t change the fact that he loves his life.  He cares.

In some circles, it is fashionable and hip to be blasé.  “Whatever.”  Roll of the eyes.  While I tend to associate this type of behavior with adolescence, I also see too many adults who adopt this pose.  With teenagers, it comes with the territory and many of them will outgrow it.  I’m afraid that’s not the case with adults.  We should be beyond posing.  I think maybe it feels safer to pretend like nothing much matters to you.  If you don’t care, you don’t get disappointed when what you care about doesn’t work out.  You dream small or worse, you don’t dream at all.  You just amble through life going through the motions without ever investing your emotions.  If you don’t take risks, you don’t get let down.  You also don’t accomplish much and you don’t experience that exhilarating thrill that accompanies the passionate pursuit of your dreams.  You don’t dare to care.

We’ve been through some difficult economic times in the past seven years, which tends to make people circle the wagons and not take financial risks.  While I understand that, I think the danger is that this “safe” stance can become pervasive and infect our overall approach to life.  For young people just starting out in their adult lives, it’s compounded by the fact that there really are fewer opportunities available than there once were.  If you get your education and do things the “right way,” you’re supposed to be able to dream big.  It’s a lot tougher to do that these days.  It’s an interesting dilemma.  One way to view it is that if the opportunities aren’t present, you can’t dream about taking advantage of them so there’s no point in caring. 

Another way to look at it though is that if you dream big dreams, you’ll make your own opportunities.  I’m not saying it’s easy or that everyone will succeed.  I am saying that if you are passionate about what you want to do with your life, if you take chances even though you’re scared, if you’re resilient enough to get back up when life knocks you down, you may just find yourself succeeding where others fail…and many don’t even try.  In fact, you’ll wind up changing your definition of success.  It’s not an end point, it’s a journey.  If you wake up most days raring to take on the world, passionate about what you’re doing, a little scared but excited at the same time, you’re LIVING!   Otherwise, you’re just existing.  So…who cares?

You can learn a lot from a dog. Waylon was a chow/Australian shepherd ten week old ball of fur when we got him. When we finally had to put him down because of age and infirmity, he was almost sixteen years old. In between that time, he worked his way into our hearts and became a full-fledged member of the family. If you needed to talk, he was always willing to listen. He was always willing to allow you to pet him. He was very territorial about the house, so he earned his keep as our “bark-alarm system.” Once he knew you however, he was your friend for life.
One time, my wife and I took a trip to Taos and of course, we took Waylon with us. Neither Waylon nor I wanted to participate in a grueling shopping trip with my wife, so we sat there on the square in Taos, soaking up the sun. When my wife finally returned, we began walking to our next destination. About every ten yards, someone would walk our way and say, “Hello Waylon.” After several of these encounters, my wife turned to me and asked if we had met everyone in Tao. In fact, we almost did. People were attracted to Waylon because he radiated warmth and friendship.
He loved music…John Lennon’s “Imagine” was his favorite song…and one of his regrets was that I never let him sing harmony on any of my albums. He was apolitical. Two of his favorite people were my friends Ramblin’ Ralph Estes, a flaming liberal ACLU kind of guy, and Sheriff Jim Wilson, as conservative as a former Texas lawman can be. He sensed that they were both good people. He also sensed that they both understood a good dog deserves to be petted. From Waylon, I learned the power of unconditional love for a living creature. He also made me believe in the concept that all living things have a soul.
My wife and daughter snuck Jessie (we kept that Waylon Jennings theme going) in when I was out of town performing. What none of us fully appreciated until we’d had her there for a little while was how damaged she was because of her two previous failed adoptions. She had full-blown separation anxiety disorder and couldn’t stand to be away from us. She was intrusive, jumping up on anyone around her. One day, she managed to let herself into the garage but couldn’t get out. She proceeded to scratch up every door of my new SUV…I let her live. She woke me up repeatedly in the middle of the night…I let her live. Finally, she viciously attacked Waylon and it was all we could do to get her off. I was ready to kill her. I’m not joking; I was going for my gun. My wife stopped me and the next day, with the help of our vet, found a company that worked with dog behavior problems. Turns out, it’s mostly dog-OWNER behavior that’s the problem. He taught us some things about dog psychology and Jessie mellowed out. She’s still a little weirdo…she gets unmentionable articles of both mine and my wife’s clothes and sleeps with them…but she’s OUR weirdo. She’s very smart and sweet most of the time, and I believe she is as good as she knows how to be. I learned patience as well as the importance of looking at myself first when there is a problem in my life.
Colter came to us right at the end of Waylon’s life. My wife found a four-week old puppy on the side of a county road beside his mother who’d been killed by a car. She called me and said she needed to rescue him and find him a “good home”…RIGHT! He was Waylon’s replacement. He has a crooked nose and congenital nerve damage that causes the left side of his lip to curl up in a spot-on imitation of Elvis. He grew from a charming little puppy into an eighty pound behemoth. Apparently, he hasn’t received the memo that he’s no longer a puppy. He has crept into my heart…actually, he’s sort of bounded…and showed me that I can love more than one dog.
They say all dogs go to heaven. I hope that’s true. No living creature ever deserved a heavenly afterlife more than our Waylon. I used to tell Waylon he was not just a “good boy,” he was the “Best Boy.” That he was. Hopefully, I’ll see you some day, bud. We’ll go for a walk and you can chase some rabbits.

You can learn a lot from a dog.  Waylon was a chow/Australian shepherd ten week old ball of fur when we got him.  When we finally had to put him down because of age and infirmity, he was almost sixteen years old.  In between that time, he worked his way into our hearts and became a full-fledged member of the family.  If you needed to talk, he was always willing to listen.  He was always willing to allow you to pet him.  He was very territorial about the house, so he earned his keep as our “bark-alarm system.”  Once he knew you however, he was your friend for life. 

One time, my wife and I took a trip to Taos and of course, we took Waylon with us.  Neither Waylon nor I wanted to participate in a grueling shopping trip with my wife, so we sat there on the square in Taos, soaking up the sun.  When my wife finally returned, we began walking to our next destination.  About every ten yards, someone would walk our way and say, “Hello Waylon.”  After several of these encounters, my wife turned to me and asked if we had met everyone in Tao.  In fact, we almost did.  People were attracted to Waylon because he radiated warmth and friendship. 

He loved music…John Lennon’s “Imagine” was his favorite song…and one of his regrets was that I never let him sing harmony on any of my albums.  He was apolitical.  Two of his favorite people were my friends Ramblin’ Ralph Estes, a flaming liberal ACLU kind of guy, and Sheriff Jim Wilson, as conservative as a former Texas lawman can be.  He sensed that they were both good people.  He also sensed that they both understood a good dog deserves to be petted.  From Waylon, I learned the power of unconditional love for a living creature.  He also made me believe in the concept that all living things have a soul.

My wife and daughter snuck Jessie (we kept that Waylon Jennings theme going) in when I was out of town performing.  What none of us fully appreciated until we’d had her there for a little while was how damaged she was because of her two previous failed adoptions.  She had full-blown separation anxiety disorder and couldn’t stand to be away from us.  She was intrusive, jumping up on anyone around her.  One day, she managed to let herself into the garage but couldn’t get out.  She proceeded to scratch up every door of my new SUV…I let her live.  She woke me up repeatedly in the middle of the night…I let her live.  Finally, she viciously attacked Waylon and it was all we could do to get her off.  I was ready to kill her.  I’m not joking; I was going for my gun.  My wife stopped me and the next day, with the help of our vet, found a company that worked with dog behavior problems.  Turns out, it’s mostly dog-OWNER behavior that’s the problem.  He taught us some things about dog psychology and Jessie mellowed out.  She’s still a little weirdo…she gets unmentionable articles of both mine and my wife’s clothes and sleeps with them…but she’s OUR weirdo.  She’s very smart and sweet most of the time, and I believe she is as good as she knows how to be.  I learned patience as well as the importance of looking at myself first when there is a problem in my life.

Colter came to us right at the end of Waylon’s life.  My wife found a four-week old puppy on the side of a county road beside his mother who’d been killed by a car.  She called me and said she needed to rescue him and find him a “good home”…RIGHT!  He was Waylon’s replacement.  He has a crooked nose and congenital nerve damage that causes the left side of his lip to curl up in a spot-on imitation of Elvis.  He grew from a charming little puppy into an eighty pound behemoth.  Apparently, he hasn’t received the memo that he’s no longer a puppy.  He has crept into my heart…actually, he’s sort of bounded…and showed me that I can love more than one dog.

They say all dogs go to heaven.  I hope that’s true.  No living creature ever deserved a heavenly afterlife more than our Waylon.  I used to tell Waylon he was not just a “good boy,” he was the “Best Boy.”  That he was.  Hopefully, I’ll see you some day, bud.  We’ll go for a walk and you can chase some rabbits.

“You can’t always get what you want, you can’t always get what you want,
You can’t always get what you want but if you try some time, you just might find
You get what you need.”
That’s a quote from those great Western philosophers, the Rolling Stones. Of course, you have to look past their opulent life style and colossal self-absorption to appreciate the wisdom of the words but it’s there nonetheless. With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I’ve been pondering what I can be thankful for. I’ve decided that to a great extent, it depends on your perspective.
If I made a list of all the things I don’t feel thankful for, chances are it could be a very long one. When I look around, I can see many people who have a great deal more than I do in terms of material wealth. There are folks who can drop $10,000 on a meal and not think twice about it or fly off to Paris (France, not Texas) at the drop of a hat. When I contemplate this, I could let it bring my mood down, no doubt. It could really depress me if I let it because I know not only can I not afford these things now, there’s almost no chance I’ll ever be able to afford them. Shoot, I can feel the wind going out of my sails as I sit here and type this. What in the world can I do about this?
Well, the most obvious answer is to make a list of what I do have to be thankful for and compare the two lists. Like the Rolling Stones, minus their opulent life style and with only a fraction of their self-absorption, I addressed this in my song, “Borrowed Time,” which I wrote about what’s really important in life.
“Get a dog, get a wife, have some kids, get a life
And shame on you if you neglect’em, that’s a dirty rotten crime
Cause we’re all livin’ on borrowed time.”
In the song, I go on to mention grandkids, fishing, horses, friends and singing your heart out. Since I’ve got all those things in my life in various quantities, you’d think I’d be pretty doggone content most of the time. My problem is that I’ve also got things going on in my life on occasion that are difficult and, dare I say…UNFAIR! Sometimes these things are only unfair in my mind and sometimes they truly are unfair by any measure. I’d like to ignore them but often I’m just not able. I’ve got them sitting there on my list of things interfering with me being thankful and they get in the way of me letting myself appreciate my life. I’m not sure how to shorten that list and balance things out.
My friend George Ensle, an Austin-based singer/songwriter and a sure nuff real Western philosopher, wrote a song with another great songwriter, Richard Dopson, which helped me tremendously. Here’s a portion of their wisdom.
“I asked for strength and I got troubles to get me straight and strong.
I asked for wisdom and I got problems that taught me right from wrong.
I asked for courage and I got dangers to get me through my fears.
I asked for answers and I got silence that taught me how to hear.
I got the world in a rain drop, I got the promise of a seed, I got all I wanted when I got all I need.”
I’d heard George do this song in the past but just a couple of months back, I had the privilege of hearing him perform it again. All of a sudden, it was like a light bulb went on in my head (sometimes it takes me longer for the lights to come on than it does for other folks). I realized that there were things I was viewing as burdens which were really opportunities for me to become a better person. Maybe I had them on the wrong list. Generally speaking, you don’t build your character by taking the easy way. Good times aren’t really what make you stronger, it’s the hard times that forge the steel. Getting through those times with people you love, helping each other along the way, forgiving each other when you’re less than perfect, getting up when you get knocked down- that’s what really matters.
So thank you for the hard times. Thanks for the chance to show the people I love that I’m there for them, not just when it’s smooth sailing but also when the waters are rough and we don’t know if our little boat is going to get swamped. Thanks for my dogs, my wife, my kids, my grandkids, my two new grand nieces whom I’ll get to meet for the first time at Christmas, thanks for all the wonderful music in my life and thanks for the great friends who have made me one of the wealthiest individuals on the face of the earth. Turns out there’s a lot to be thankful for, it just depends on how you look at it.