This has been a day of remembering. Got all nostalgic about my ties to New Mexico, and thinking of interesting experiences I've had throughout my life. Also had a good portion of the family over to sing, in our own fashion, "Happy Birthday" to my son-in-law Paul.
West Texas is certainly not New Mexico, but it still holds value in my heart. The following is another of those old rambling remembrances I ran across today.
HOLDING DOWN THE FORT
On our first day at Fort Davis, while waiting for check-in time, we stopped into the “Drug Store” restaurant, hotel, and souvenir shop to have some of their world-famous hamburgers. On a bench in front of the store, there was a seedy looking fellow, long hair, beard, really scruffy looking clothes, somewhat wild eyed. He was sitting and waving his hands around in the air, bobbing his upper body forward and back, occasionally making a series of unintelligible sounds, as if he were communicating with the local insects.
We saw him several times during the afternoon, sitting there on the bench with his feet tucked under him, making his noises, bobbing, and gazing restlessly at the porch ceiling as he waved his hands around.
Along about four o’clock, we saw him walk down the block, get into a well maintained Crown Victoria and drive away.
Next morning about nine am, we saw him drive up, park his car, and walk up to his post. My wife said “Every town like this needs a character, and I guess that’s his job. Every day when his shift is over, he goes home, and comes back to work again the next day!”
I can picture him now, home after a long day of being nuts, sitting in his den with a glass of Glenlivet and a good book, as he waits for his strikingly beautiful wife to set the table with white china, crystal, and sterling silver, a lovely pot roast and green salad.