Reflections on our natural resources

Livingston, Texas is a small town about a hundred miles north of Houston. The trees that flourish here are basically those that are draught-hardy. Also those that like an acid soil. Eastern red cedar, post oak, blackjack oak, loblolly pine, slash pine, long leaf pine (the three yellow pines) are the major forest trees. In the city, there are lots of redbud, magnolia, some palm, and, of course, dogwood. The dogwood is special to lots of folks. It's branches are thorny, the flower purest while, and a little red dot in the flower's center. Yes, it's been referred to often as the crown of thorns tree. But, it's pretty to all -- Christians, monotheists, atheists, Druids, and heathens. So, it's a good tree.
The city of Livingston, itself, is quite a place. It's a pretty even mixture of folks who have roots of some kind in Mexico, white, and African American. It's an economically healthy town with a broad mix of businesses -- retail, service, logging/lumber, tourist-related. I expected a kind of resentment because I'm from out-of-town, talk with a different accent, and live in what is basically a trailer park. But, no way! Folks here are eager to make contact, talk, and get to know you. It's a pretty comfortable life.
I remember something very significant regarding moves to places far away. In 1977, a faculty member at the University of Minnesota cautioned me as I began my first faculty appointment at Texas A&M: "Be careful down there. Folks are different between here and there." Well, after 17 years, I accepted a position back at the University of Minnesota. Wouldn't you know it, a fellow faculty member at Texas A&M said the same thing, in reverse: "Be careful. Folks up there can be different." Well, yes and no. Mostly, no. Even in the jungle in Nigeria, I found that the biggest difference was in the what you ate or drank as you sat around and chewed the fat with the folks you ran into. In the jungle, my newly found friend sucked on a seed as he and I talked. It was a powerful seed, and I just didn't want any part of it. But, the friend and I talked as he nursed his seed and I nursed my beer. Really, there isn't enough of a difference as you go from here to there . . .

Posted by Joe Massey at 7:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Steinbeck talks about the cohesiveness of Texas and Texans. Nothing could be truer. In other states, you get reminded from time to time that you are in that particular state. In Texas, there is no need for reminding -- you saw the Texas Star, a Texas flag, or some product that is labelled "Texas" product -- you saw one or more of these in the past ten seconds. Texas is the only state that entered the Union by treaty. It has reserved the right to form several states, or to just plain leave and form its own country. But, no problem, no chance -- Texans are fiercely patriotic to America. And, Texas kindness pervades all the cities, and pervades the nooks and crannies of all the country, the backroads, and the woodlands.

Retirement, aside from the obvious problem of the advanced age that accompanies it, is quite a delightful time. It seems 'just right' to begin it in a new place with a bunch of new people. We now call ourselves "fulltimers." That name, little understood outside our Escapees community, is really on the tip of the tongue of every person here. And, the city of Livingston accepts these northern outsiders, snowbirds, fulltimers quite readily. It's probably all about economics. At any rate, the fit is good. I did note with interest a psychological phenomenon the other day. I felt like the next steps after this one, in our lives (wife and mine) were pretty permanent. Just like when parents die, the children realize that they are the "next ones out," so too does retirement place a thought of a person's own "last stand" in his or hers.

Posted by Joe Massey at 9:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

"In long-range planning for a trip, I think there is a private conviction that it won't happen" -- Steinbeck, TWC

On Wednesday, March 1, Jinny and I hooked up our travel trailer and began the 1,500-mile trip from Crookston, MN to Livingston, TX. The hussle and the bustle of the months leading up to the beginning of the trip finally led to the trip, itself. A blizzard was supposed to have blown through, but missed Crookston. There was a wind blowing from East, loading the east side of the road with thin drifts, but we were on the west side. Travel was slow, but continuous -- more than just a little like life, itself (with luck). We made it all the way down to Yankton, NE, where we got a room across the street from an awfully good buffet. For the first week, I've yielded to the temptation to let everyone know what day it was of my retirement. That was day one. I'm actually past the impulse, now. Night two, we spent in Wichita, KS. It was a lot warmer.

We entered OK at the beginning of day three. I asked the woman at the rest stop where she would recommend camping. Wow, did she get it right. She led us to Lake Murray State Park 25 miles north of the southern OK state line. Concrete pads, full hookups, woods, a great restaurant -- and a lake. We stayed there three days. On the night before we left, we carried our quad chairs and wine down to the lake and watched the moon in the water.

The following night, we parked at a luxury resort north of Dallas and went out to dinner with friends.

The next day presented the worst of the driving -- smack through the Dallas freeway I35 - I30 - I45. It is absolutely impossible to choose the correct lane. Freeways intersect with one another. Lanes end. New lanes open up. Survival is a miracle.

Finally on day seven, we made it to Escapees RV camp in Livingston, TX, a place where folks like us stay a night, a week, a year, or the rest of their lives. But, if they happen to be staying the rest of their lives, they always keep their rig handy and ready, "just in case."

We've been in Escapees for three nights now. We now have a library card, a permanent address, and controlled climate storage for the 30 boxes we shipped USPS from Crookston to Livingston. What we don't have yet are (1) car license, (2) trailer license, and (3) drivers' licenses. It seems that the trailer and car need to be inspected before they get licensed. And, you have to have the car licensed before you can get a driver's license. So, we just went to WalMart -- what the heck.

Restaurants: Manny's Cajun, a Mexican restaurant just west of town, and Jerry's over in Onalaska. Never heard of "purple hulls," so of course ordered them.

The travel from Crookston to Livingston is now complete. The relocation was the first step in the adventure. So, we've made it happen -- at least the beginning.

Posted by Joe Massey at 10:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)