A Phd in D.U.M.B.

I got out of Van Horn just before noon which was early by California time but under the wire by Texas time. I got off the I-10 as soon as I could so I could take advantage of slower speeds and more photo ops. The land was beginning to look familiar compared to my childhood memories. Finally there were some trees and hills to break the monotony of the flatlands. By the time I crossed the Pecos River--another dream image bites the dust(Pecos Trickle was more like it)--there were even scrub pinons growing. The ground is covered with wild flowers and those beautiful blooming Mojave yuccas.












Probably the funniest berg I drove through was Iraan, Texas. I bet the local teams have a hard time on Friday nights. On the back roads the simple lifestyle is more up close and personal.

I think of the hard life my dad and his dad before him had trying to make a living on rocky, prickly-pear infested land. They knew what it meant to have nothing. I had hours to think of the strange twists of life that resulted in me being where I am now compared to just two generations ago. My dad graduated early from high school in Dublin, Texas, to join the Marine Corps.

That was his only realistic way of getting off the farm--a farm that wasn't supporting the family. There must have been young men from farms all over suddenly scattered to military posts across the country--and then sent overseas for World War II. Because of that huge global upheaval, the biggest--certainly not the greatest--generation(Boomers) grew up in a degree of prosperity our grandparents could not even imagine. My Texas grandparents didn't even get indoor plumbing until the Sixties! Perhaps that is why I can drive through the land that generations of my family farmed and feel nothing. I can't relate. I don't even know if that is a good thing or not. It might as well have been centuries ago rather than 2 generations. Did my dad go to a school that looked like this one? Just ghosts are left behind that we Boomers can't even guess at.














I have been on the road for one week now. One week since I last saw a Starbucks (in Barstow). Radio stations are few and far between. I've managed to catch just bits of Rush but there is no scarcity of Bible preachers and Mexican stations. Has anyone done any studies to find out if Mexican disc jockeys have more high blood pressure and heart attacks than other groups? This one man was nearly apoplectic in his announcing. I did get to listen to a show about financial advice. The host had a great expression: (in reference to a mother) "She's just a travel agent for a guilt trip!" He was also fond of reminding his listeners that he'd gotten his Phd in D.U.M.B. It helped the time go quickly.

I tried to get an ice cream cone at the Dairy Queen in Big Lake but the water main for the town had broken. I'm still not quite sure why that meant no one could get ice cream but the entire town of 800 was closing up. No business could get done.

San Angelo is a real pretty town. I'm staying next to one of their lakes where Byrdie immediately took a dip. She loved the swimming. She's been a great traveler and it was fun to see her in her element instead of riding shotgun in the RV.















Tomorrow is the final destination of Llano. I will be so glad to see family and get some rest in one place for awhile.