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For the birds!

April 6, 2009
Lonesome Dove

Lonesome Dove

I like Lonesome Dove. There, I’ve said it and I’ll own it. In fact, I’d wager I’m addicted to the characters and the locales. Many a moon I’ve sat up lately, courtesy of Netflix, my iMac and insomnia, to follow along the Chisholm Trail with Gus McRae and Woodrow Call. I reckon it’s almost like being in Texas without being there.

Remember that Boys Don’t Cry song from the 80s? Would it help if I cued my portable Casio keyboard?
I wanna be a cowboy…and you can be my cowgirl…

Hear it now? And do you hear that hummin’? It’s me….pretending I’m tendin’ the chuckwagon. Now that’s quite a step from me gettin’ tended to at Cowgirl Hall of Fame down in the Village where Frito pie and black-eyed pea salsa are the main vittles. That sound you hear is me growin’ nostalgic for Texas by virtue of Lonesome Dove.

Here’s an interesting tangent that’s kinda sorta but not really. Now…I have never seen a live dove, but I have seen a live pigeon. Millions of them, actually. They visit my windowsill as if it were Boca, and they beach for weeks. Ready for this? Doves and pigeons are in the same family: Columbidae. Columbidae sounds like Columbia, my alma mater…See where I’m going with this? Anyone else recalling a Dakota Fanning and Mel Gibson flick? The universe is giving me signs…signs that Texas, pigeons, doves, and Frito pie are all a part of me…which ratio is which, however, remains debatable.

Will I hitch up my wagon and head west? Nah…but I just might start figgerin’ out my heritage more and seein’ what’s on my family tree. Hand to God, though, it better be more than poultry.

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