I’m a born and raised Texan.  I was born in the 50s on New Years Day in a small west Texas town.

I grew up on the border of Juarez and El Paso.  Flash forward a few years, and I worked for some wealthy people in downtown Dallas.  I handled numerous amounts of money, but it was just a bunch of numbers to me. I worked for a prominent attorney who had a nervous breakdown and was rushed to Timberlawn in the middle of the day.  Later, I worked for a Foundation that handled a bunch of donor money.  Some of the people even ended up havin’ their name put on a hospital building. I’m sure it was exciting to them.  I was just glad that I spelled their name right on the legal document and kept my job.

It’s been a few years since I saw Lucy Pappillion (see Walker Railey of First United Methodist) walk down the hallway.  My boss opened the door, and they talked.  Didn’t get to see any legal documents on that, but I bet they would have been interesting.

I talked to Lance Rentzel once.  He called another boss of mine.  It was in the 1980s, so I knew his name, but my boss had pounded into my head, “ALWAYS ask the person on the phone to spell their last name.”  I asked Lance to spell his.  A few minutes later, my boss came out and said Lance wasn’t happy about that.  I shrugged my shoulders.  There were a lot of people who were not happy about Lance.  I wasn’t too bothered that I asked him to spell his last name.  I could have asked some other questions.

So now, I’m retired and livin’ in East Texas.  Love the tall trees and most of the people.  I’ve never seen so many white people with bad teeth.  When I went to the local Social Security office, there were some people that looked like they had fallen on hard times.  I can kinda relate.  I’ve had some hard times, too.

Today, I went to a garage sale down the street.  As I was leaving, a middle aged cowboy with no shoes on his feet asked me if I had $20 so that he could buy some “drawers” (that’s Texan for underwear).  “Sorry, I don’t have $20, but you look like you need some shoes!”

“Makes my feet tough,” he said as he turned and walked away. I noticed that not only did he have bare feet, but he did indeed have a hole in his drawers!

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