When you go to the website of many community newspapers, including my hometown newspaper, a pop-up box appears. It says, “Support local journalism. Donate now.” A nonprofit organization has been set up to allow one to make tax-deductible donations to help newspapers continue covering the COVID-19 crisis.
It might seem odd to donate to keep a newspaper’s coverage continuing, especially if one already pays for a subscription, as I do. As long as the presses keep rolling, and carriers continue to deliver a print product, I will happily pay to walk out in the morning, pick up the paper that...
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Further notes while largely sheltering in place:
I ventured out of town last week to interview someone for an upcoming magazine article. Except for a brief visit to my brother-in-law’s yard outside Gilmer, it was the first time I have left the city limits since March 8. That’s when I made a quick trip to Austin just as things were starting to feel a bit shaky. This time I headed to San Augustine, about 90 miles away. The subject of my interview graciously agreed to host me in her beautiful backyard, at a safe distance. I showed up and went straight to the backyard — laptop, recorder...
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A friend recently sent a link to an article related to the 1968-69 flu pandemic. While I completely disagree with the author’s conclusion that the government’s reaction has been greatly overblown, it spurred me to research that 1968 pandemic. Mainly, because I have only a vague memory of a flu pandemic that began in Hong Kong, in July of 1968, and lasted approximately 18 months.
I was not quite 13 when what became known as the Hong Kong Flu began overseas and entered the United States in California and through the Panama Canal zone, via American service personnel returning from Vietnam,...
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This has become the Year of the Birds.
Glorious weather, and more time on our hands, finds us outside often when not working remotely at our respective jobs. We have several bird feeders set up along the deck and under the gazebo. A pair of cardinals have taken up residence in our backyard, flitting about the azaleas and crepe myrtles. They are appreciative of the newly installed feeder under the gazebo, stopping by several times for a snack. They chirp warnings when Tater and Tot are prowling outside. Cats are natural-born bird killers, so we keep an eye on them when they go outside to do their...
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The week before our world largely shut down, and those of us who can remain sheltered in home, a friend and I were talking at the gym. We’re both Medicare age. Actually, I’m still a few months away. That means we both had grandparents who lived through some troubling times.
“We’ve had it easy until now,” he said, as it became clear our world was going to change very quickly, and not in a good way. He is right, though that might be of little comfort to some.
Until now, the most traumatic event that affected all Americans in our lifetimes was the Great Recession of 2008-2009, which...
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Willie Nelson, our state’s greatest living treasure, turned 87 yesterday. I spent a chunk of the day, as usual, in front of the computer in my study, handling library interlibrary loans online and continuing to compile research while sheltering in place. In honor of Willie’s birthday, KUTX — the sister station to KUT, Austin’s NPR station — played his music all day and night long. That was my background music. Over the hours that Willie played through the speakers, the breadth and depth of his music stood out, as well as his virtuosity on Trigger, his well-worn Martin N-20 guitar with...
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Don't let us get sick
Don't let us get old
Don't let us get stupid, all right?
Just make us be brave
And make us play nice
And let us be together tonight
— Warren Zevon
I have been playing a lot of Warren Zevon on Spotify lately while sheltering in our home and researching what I hope will be a book someday. The late singer-songwriter, author of such classics as “Werewolves of London” and “Lawyers, Guns and Money,” died of mesothelioma in 2003 at the too-young age of 56. He was revered by fellow songwriters like Jackson Browne — who helped him secure his first record contract...
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The tornado sirens began blaring early Easter morning, as nearly ceaseless peels of thunder sent the dogs scurrying to hide beneath our feet. We still had power, so I checked the weather radar online. I then walked around, peering out the large picture windows that are the main architectural feature of our house. That’s what East Texas men do when the tornado siren sounds: stare out the window looking for the funnel cloud. Of course, if I actually saw one, it would be too late to do much about it.
Meanwhile, my Beautiful Mystery Companion, who had already been up a couple of hours, was checking...
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Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you
from the fowler’s snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
— Psalm 91: 1-6
A friend of more...
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As I sat in my study the other day in front of the computer screen, reading a digitized issue of the San Augustine Red-Lander from 1841, I heard a loud vehicle outside. At first I thought it was a UPS or FedEx truck. We live at the end of a cul-de-sac, so they pass by often these days making their rounds, as more of us try to stay out of stores and order online. I looked out the window and saw it wasn’t a delivery truck but rather the city’s street sweeper, making its rounds, picking up the oak clusters and pine tree noodles that carpet the pavement.
The driver made a couple of rounds and soon...
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