Monday, October 22, 2007

Trucking Cowboy Posts

Week Six

Dallas Cowboys vs. Minnesota Vikings

Well, let me just begin by saying that today's date is Monday, October the twenty second of the year of our Lord, 2007, and I have still yet to watch a game that occurred yesterday. "What?", you say, "How can this be that this man is one day behind the rest of us? How can he not know the outcome?" I'll tell you. Yesterday I was strongly inspired, and motivated, to pack up my equipment and head out into the prairie (down into a nearby Floyd county canyon where the First Baptist Church of Lockney gathers once a year) to paint landscape. "Ahhhh," I said, "I will study this canyon with paint." Upon my departure from the Sunday Morning Worship Service, I received brief and eloquently simple directions as to how to arrive at this canyon of said location; however, the devel often arrives to toy. Between this arrival and the time of my leaving, I rushed home to gather and organize my supplies, grabbing five canvases of various size. Soon, more time had passed than I gathered and before long, I was wired and tagging with me along electronic devices of individual functionality. All of these things with me, I set out with companion to find the great canyon.

In Walked the Devel


", I think after that house we were supposed to turn right."


"Are you sure? I thought it was left, take the first left after the house at the top of the Southernmost Ridge, right?"


"yea, that's right it was left..."


"Well, I'll just take this left right here, surely it goes there..."

Lo, but behold it did not. The duo plus paint marveled at the countryside and when the critical time came it was about face and STOP!

The sky was alien. Perfect. And not to be matched in any form.

In every direction the perfect landscape, ... the perfect scene. The air was crisp with low breeze, and the setting yielded much promise. Immediately rushing of multiple actions as I began to unload, sort, organize, place, and layout for what was to be the mother of all wars in painting of my experience. No more than fresh paint hit pallet, that the winds began.

The earth howled and moaned with the line wires of acupuncture which grappled them, "WAR! War is upon you", they said, hissing and spitting as they fled. "You warrior demons are no match for me. Death be your Commander." The landscapes still held true, all of them perfect, all of them grand, but indeed, the sky was alien, and direction was lost. A new wave came upon me now, again, blowing harder this time with magnification of an out of place sun in a sky cast behind clouds of thin scab. Harder I pressed, "FASTER!!!", was the report I gasped. But the Sands of Doom have an agenda of their own, and into the ditch of red sand my canvas' were caste. The sun hot, and dry on skin, deleting all moisture with embrace of cold wind. "From the Mouth of Creation this day has come", at last. I continued on, from the hour of two until six. Until the fury of the land were wrought upon my mark together merged, locked... and clasp.

Until the day was done, finally reaching the canyon land at the second greatest time of His command, light and colour were equally as grand, as the lost alien sky of Safari County West Texas Road. But just between me and the sand,...

"He who laughs last, laughs good..."




As for The Battle of Vikings and Cowboy Men

I "tivo'd" the broadcast, watched the first half after a good shower, then fell asleep on the couch during half time show. The score was fourteen to seven; so I still don't know who won.

***the same***

as it still stands, for I and the sands.

Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Ass Handed to Us

* The Trucking Cowboy Posts *

Gross. The only thing I'll say about last week, I said in the title. Wow. The Patriots kicked our butts. I was hoping for some kind of mortal combat defensive showing by Dallas, but instead Sheriff Brady dealt out some finishing moves worthy only of the Scorpion himself. Dirty. Now, the uncertainty. Will the Cowboys will go up or down? I hope they rebound fiercely against the Vikings and avoid falling into that pit of shame teams share, who come out swinging undefeated-swagger the first five games of the season, then turn out to be the morons of the league by finishing out at 500. That would make me have "Night of the Living Carnitas" in my guts and brains (great title by the way Durham;

New England Patriots 44,000 Dallas Cowboys 24 F
Special thanks to the state of Iowa for having free high speed internet at all IA rest area locations, an attribute far exceding the progress of most of the other fortynine.

Monday, October 8, 2007

Oh, Despair, Despair,.... Can This Be?

Dallas Cowboys vs. Buffalo Bills
Well. Sometimes, sometimes nothing works out. Occasionally the asteroids and comets align on similar courses and find their destinations not far from the others mark. YEEEESSS!!! Terrance Newman interception!!!!! We Live. This can prove extremely destructive. Just ask Jupiter how she felt taking the Levy Nine. Crap! Ask Tony Romo. Four more and I'm calling him Levy Nine for the rest of his career. But those are the blows that decimate the weak, and define the great. The week give up after the first five consecutive knock downs, (if not after the first two). The great never quit, Death does not even conquer them, they are free.
As you may understand, I'm inspired to write tonight while watching my lifelong team blow all four tires and spin around uncontrollably on sparking aluminum rims. There is hope. Even when great adversaries or unbeatable odds arise. Even for the Bills. They were picked to lose horribly. And right now there's twenty four seconds left and they have an eight point lead. There is hope. So, I guess the point of this whole thing is, don't quit. Two point conversion.............crap. Onside kick..................
In one of my favorite movies, a Russian submarine captain would execute a "crazy ivan" every once in awhile to assure himself and the crew that their sub was not being followed or tracked by the enemy. This maneuver was a simple break in the course of the boat, erratic, unpredictable, unknowing sometimes even to the captain himself. I recently found myself doing this while snorkeling alone in the Caribbean Sea, and just because I never saw a shark behind me as I swam, doesn't mean there wasn't one. In fact this is more an action of humility. Yes I realize I am mortal. Yes, I will face death. Yes, I must answer to a Mighty Lord for my life's results.
These simple erratic deviations, after all, are a natural hardwire. A necessity in the struggle to remain humble. A break in all routines. A strategy to out wit my own natural mind to remain at the edge, to keep from boasting a fools game and trekking onto too thin of ice. A preservation of ones sense of certainty. Reassurance, in this ocean of experience, that I am not, nor will I ever be, too great to be the greatest. Wisdom.
It does not come without scars.
the Cowboys won, by the way, with a last two-second field goal. They got that onside kick; they got some extra yards, they won. There is hope.
Dallas Cowboys 25 Buffalo Bills 24
posted from Houston, TX.

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