TEXAS VERACITY Ol' Don will insistently tell us How Texans are quite overzealous. But, see here! Not all males Tell far-fetched or tall tales. They're true! And I think he's just jealous. Disparaging our reputation Is some folks professed avocation. They voice their contentions: "Those stories...inventions! Unparalleled exaggeration!" We Texans would like to prevent them From panning our yarns. We resent them. Because of the strife Of our wild Texas life, We seldom are forced to invent them. Eschewing all prevarication, We Texans spew honest loquation. We think "Ignoramus!" When "for'ners" say they must Forgive us a small fabrication. The next time that you think of squawking And gabblin' some good natured mocking About your perceptions Of seeming deceptions, Remember of whom you are talking! Yeah, Texans are proud of their flair For telling things others won't dare. You may think it made up, Intentionally played up... Especially if you wasn't there! But I'm here to tell you, Mon Cher, That our stories ain't made of frog hair. We may not be liable To vow on the Bible, But our stories are Gospel. I swear! bubba
DON'S RESPONSE No gauntlet was meant to be thrown but I'm led to believe from your tone, that curt verbage galore is what may be in store and cause all who would read it to moan. I once spent some time down in Texas as a part of the World War Two Nexus... I learned how to shoot from a Houston galoot with a thorn in his side for the Axis.... I learned of the droll Texas drawl, and how everything starts with "Y'all" I learned about places and wide open spaces, and natives 'near leven feet tall !! Yer upstandin quaint elocution don't fit the approved school solution. All them tales about size are a hint to the wise to take such braggin spiels with dilution! :) But on this here one point I am stuck...... I believe what you said 'bout yer truck. There's an answer, of course: TRADE IT IN FOR A HORSE you can ride through that West Texas muck !! Don Tidwell
Contained in an EMail message from Don Tidwell ("Tater")
Have perused issue 6, and am amazed at the offerings of the different folks
who enjoy the same things we do. ... Am attaching "West Texas Cattle Drive"
which I wrote this morning as a kind of a curry comb under his horse's tail
fer Bubba. That hombre jist keeps askin for it.
West Texas Cattle Drive
It's a long and rugged journey
from West Texas to Montana,
and the distance hasn't changed
since back in days of Santa Anna.
Oh, the freeway's replaced sagebrush,
and there's towns along the way,
but the miles thats in between
are just the same as yesterday.
Now 'Ol Bubba raises cattle
on the vast West Texas plains,
but his round -up method differs
as his sidekick here explains:
He uses Yukon Huskies
and a flop-eared low-built hound,
to chase them mangy dogies
and git 'em turned around
and headed to a loadin chute,
from where, with any luck,
He can prod 'em with a cattle goad
and load 'em in his truck,
then drive 'em to the market
in Montana far away,
where he sells 'em to the butcher,
and then waits to get his pay.
He runs about four hundred head,
and rounds up once a year,
and sells 'em all but three old cows
and one ol longhorn steer....
He puts about a zillion miles
on that old pick-up truck....
( Here's why if you keep score,)
He hauls 'em up two at a time,
then deadheads back for more !
Don Tidwell
2/9/97
I don't wanta be too conspicuous. And those multiple trips don't seem bright So, to keep reputations auspicious I'll just have to travel at night. I don't think that you coulda seen me A-haulin two cattle, no more. You shoulda looked closer, Compadre... In the passenger seat they's two more. Yeah, haulin' by fours is consumin' Of time...takin' most of the year. But my rancho ain't fit fer no human, And I dern sure don't wanta stay here! The prickly pear conjures invective (And the tumbleweeds out in the lawn). Though haulin' two pairs ain't effective, It makes an excuse to stay gone. Now, Tater, your verses are wonders... A regular rhymin' psychologist. But sometimes your logic has blunders. You ain't very much a zoologist. 'Cause, Tater, just read 'twixt your commas. You got a mite twisted. You're wrong! If I keep an ol' steer and three Mommas I won't have a herd before long. bubba
Well Bubba, I'll do some explainin right here.. though this one 'aint much to my likin.... What you said was two heifers there in the front seat, I took for two ladies hitch hikin.... I'll admit that my eyesight 'aint much anymore, but ya said it yourself... it was dark... I wondered if maybe you'd picked up them gals and wuz lookin for someplace to park ! I knowed that I mighta endangered yer herd, but I thought it was better this time, to go with a steer cause it rhymed well with year, and preserved my well-spaced, metered rhyme. Ha! It's OK with me if you look for new seed in an effort to keep yer herd full, so when ya get back from the last trip ya make, go on out and getcha a bull.(white faced Hereford of course) Seeya later Tater
Yer eyesight's a figment of history Yer imaginin' things through yer fog It ain't hardly much of a mystery I can usually be found with a dog. When I take a trip to the market It's bidness till bidness is done. I ain't got no time to just park it. No time to indulge in some fun. So kindly rescind yer reportin' 'Bout heifers with me, as it were. The lady that I've been a-courtin' Knows only too well it weren't her. Matter of fact she was pinin' To go with me off to that place, So, finally, to keep her from whinin' I told her "Hon, I ain't got space!" And with yer durn stories you tell That I wasn't alone anyhow. She's ready to give me some Hell 'Less you tell her that it was a cow. And maybe then she'll be forgivin' Despite her suspicions she'll melt And let me go on with my livin' Instead of inflictin' a welt. But I have faint hope of amendin ' The things that you say that you saw. I'm 'fraid that the message yer sendin' Will cause her to fight tooth and claw. No squabble with you, Uncle Tater, Though into my bidness you butt. We'll work it out sooner or later. But, from now on, just keep yer trap shut. I'm finally nigh done with this prattle One last statement, by hook or by crook... When I need some bull for my cattle, With you there I know where to look. bubba
I guess I'll consider me vanquished... dispatched on the point of yer plow. but to me with my bad failin eyesight, they didn't look much like no cow. Now I don't much like spreadin rumors... they gits folks in trouble, I vow.... So I'll jist retract them hitch hikers, And say it was sho nuff a cow. Explain to that gal you been courtin, 'Ol Tater is on his last legs, and lest y'all think he's all scoundrel, Please know her forgiveness he begs. If four at a time is yer payload, then four at a time it'll be.. No mind what ya say, I'll believe ya.. You'll git no more static from me... As time gives us room for reflection, we know that this saga will pass... But Before yer next trip to Montana, blow yer tank full of West Texas Gas! (It'll git ya thar with only one fill-up) :-) Hey, if ya enter this stuff in a Texas Fibstorm contest, I'd like a proportionate share of whatever ya win.(16%) DT 10 Feb/97
I gotta be gone until Friday To a meetin' in Waco I'm gone. Yer words yestidday brightened my day, And I cain't wait to get logged back on. My gal sez "Accept his apology!" (If that truly is what it be) "And, don't you condemn his zoology They sure looked like bovines to me!" So, thank you, my friend, for retractin' (Despite somewhat sarcastic tone.) She thinks it was cows I was packin'... Her eyesight's as bad as yer own. Romance is still kickin' out my way It practically thrills me to death! But I've got to get out on the highway So I reckon I'd best save my breath. ***** This is the most fun I've had in ages! Thanks, Tater! bubba