Family and Friends Revisited

 

The Tribal Costume

Family and Friends Revisited

Jockey Box

By Stephen L. Wilmeth

  

            A growing genetic debate of sorts is simmering on the horizon.

            The question is whether the fissure between the maskees and the non-maskers relates to a phenotypical tendency or is it primordial and genotypical? Since the question was first posed by founding EarthFirsters! celebrating the great outdoors in Mexico’s Reserval de la Biosfera El Pinacate, it must be considered a valid issue. Their point was simple.

            In order to understand wilderness, the human organism must be a carrier of the wilderness gene.

            From a quick literature search, no such gene has ever been isolated, but since the suggestion was made by a pack of them, it must be true. Their assessments of all things worldly is taken seriously by the prevailing press, and, when a grand statement is issued by one of their elder shamans, it is represented as the truth. It doesn’t need scientific review.

            So, the question remains. Is insistence of wearing the mask in the ongoing, manmade pandemic related to a particular human genotype or is it merely a trend inspired by some tribal costume trick that will fade away? Such questions seem to divide us.

            It is such a complicated world.

            Jockey Box

            The world wasn’t nearly as complicated, though, when bologna was cut from big rolls with a sharp butcher knife or when little boys could still peel apples with their pocketknives.

            The diverging world is a case study of different histories. The first is woven around the individual who was expected to make decisions for himself, but whose upbringing engrained standards of decency and awareness of those around him. The second meanders through the mist of group thought where cross purposes and avoidance of personal responsibility led to the destruction of what most of us still believe America is all about. The storm cloud that is forming where these two fronts are colliding is becoming dangerous and more volatile by the day. The political objective is clearly disunion.

            The ranch world where too few of us reside has been relegated and abandoned to the first case history.

            Individualism and self-sacrifice and not national leadership continues to define its existence. In fact, national leadership over the past 150 years has been confrontational to the way of life that creates and sustains independence of thoughts and actions. It has ultimately been successful, too. The evidence is there for all to see.

            There are far too few folks who can deal with critical emergencies that arise with only those tools that happen to accumulate in their well-worn jockey box.

            Family and Friends Revisited

            The past several days has been an ebb and flow of emotion.

Drought certainly has us on edge, but the political upheaval is becoming surreal.

The discussions within our ranks consistently share the same theme. With only rare

exception, we are united in our condemnation of the progressive leadership that stands

overtly in juxtaposition to our way of life and the national issues that impact us.

            We are all affected but that is where logic and some sense of normal is found.

             Several things resulted in day away from the ranch where demands never cease.

First, a visit to my 93-year-old father was past due. The trip was preceded by morning chores that included feeding the horses. The previous morning had witnessed a 4:15 feeding so the 6:00 feeding revealed a more relaxed cavvy sensing they weren’t going to have to work this day.

            The trip up I-10 and then HW180 revealed our range isn’t the only dry country in the world.

            At the Ft. Bayard turnoff, the reminder that Jep’s service had already started. There were people there among the American flags waving at the National Cemetery that we would have loved to see and visit, but our schedule was full, and we were already late.

            For a 93-year-old man, my dad remains keen and alert. He still drives, does his own shopping and cleaning, and worries incessantly about the fellow in the White House’s mental state. A political debate raged around the kitchen table in a house where the electronic age is still not welcome.

            There are just two or three of those characters up there that have any guts at all!

            From Little Walnut Road, we went by Betty Blue’s where some family was gathered. Betty’s suffering was ended a week ago. Her service had been a small private affair at the Mesa Cemetery where so much of our history resides. We reminisced about the past with stories and conclusions only we would know about.

            We parted with hugs and the reminder we love each other.

            From there it was a trip up to Pinos Altos to Randy and Donna’s. A big birthday was in the offing and an early celebration of sorts was the intention. Rather than birthday cake it was pecan pie we enjoyed as we talked, watched the deer, and dodged the hummingbirds that dined on a row of feeders above our heads.

            We parted with hugs and the reminder we love each other.

The start home was quiet. By the time the tailings at Hurley were in our wake, our immediate world was returning with discussion about tomorrow’s planned work. There were grandkids and worries with conclusions only we would know about.

This is our world.

It has been since 1880 when John Moss found his way from Utah to the Gila River Valley. Walking among the horses when I fed that evening, I was reminded that the purity of work and life on our lands is a precious gift. The people that influence us, the ties through blood and events of life, and the walk we have daily with our Lord and Savior still separates us from a world that seems bound for chaos.

 

Stephen L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New Mexico. “The portraits that Betty Blue wanted us to have of our Great-great-great grandparents will hang prominently in our home”.