Blogs

Yer lookin’ at a feller with no tennis shoes, a ’76 GMC pickup, an outhouse and a learning permit for a cellphone. But, lest you lump me into that group of stodgy ol’ dinosaurs who cling to the days of Garth Brooks, pygmy Angus and real spare tires, let me assure you I have stepped boldly into the modern world of manly footwear.

Clichés we should drop from our everyday speech might include, “It is what it is.” I actually used that in an email today and thought, “That’s a stupid statement.” It’s a five-word waste of breath, a 16-character waste of keystrokes. Of course it is what it is – what else would it be?

Early January. Most of the country is concerned with things like, “Did the water to the house or cattle freeze up last night? Will it freeze tonight?”

It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me well, but I was running late. I had to make the 230-mile drive to the Salt Lake airport to catch a flight to Dallas on my way to Tulsa.

We had a carefully orchestrated plan for the first week of October. We had to be in Panguitch, Utah, for the National Senior Pro Rodeo Finals by Tuesday night, but we couldn’t leave until we finished pregnancy testing the cows on Monday.

Let me cast a little light.

There’s a robot hall of fame (yes, who knew?) established in 2003 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.