A phrase I often recite (“respect your limitations and watch your abilities grow”) tends to fall on deaf ears here in the Roaring Fork Valley of Colorado, where people are often seen hopping around on wounded legs eager to get back to bagging peaks or biking 100-milers. But those who adhere to this adage are surprised and delighted at the leap their capacity for happiness takes.

Any chance you wrote the entries for Pecos County? For instance, the ones about Iraan and how it got its name? Or Alley Oop, its most famous resident (creator of the Gasoline Alley strip)? Or the park named after him? Did you take those photos of the giant animals from the strip that are in the playground for the kids of Iraan to play on and are also the town’s predominant claim to fame? (Oh, and the Yates Field, a billion barrels and still pumping! And the boy with two graves—did you write that one, too?) I’d tell you what I was doing in Iraan, but you’ll have to wait for the essay….

Bob

Again and again, in the research I could do at my desk instead of driving around, I found myself quoting from, citing, or just turning for guidance to the New Handbook of Texas and in particular to entries written by Martin Kohout. It was primarily from him that I learned about West Texas’s history and physiography (all those creeks, bluffs, and playas), which made all the difference in cataloging the buildings. So, years later, when I first met him, I was delighted to find that he was indeed the very person I had come to rely on—for me it was like meeting a studious old friend.

There hasn’t been enough funding to get the architectural guide to Texas published. But I am glad to have this opportunity to offer my thanks and admiration for the New Handbook of Texas, for its army of “county writers” and other contributors, and for Martin in particular.

I am a little dubious about the factuality of the story about Tom Mix’s three Stetson hats, however. Not to make a direct comparison, but I am reminded of a scene in His Girl Friday, in which editor Walter Burns (played by Cary Grant) is telling the person doing the page layout: “No, no, never mind the Chinese earthquake, for heaven’s sake…. Look, I don’t care if there’s a million dead…. No, no, junk the Polish Corridor…. Take all those Miss America pictures off page six…. Take Hitler and stick him on the funny page…. No, no, leave the rooster story alone—that’s human interest.”

Also, I kept misreading “county writer” as “country writer.” Either title is charming to me, as is this entire post. Great to hear your lovely voice again, my dear friend. xoxoxo

I should probably leave it at the faux-haiku above (where’s the season?) but I heard a legend once that I will deliver here as fact. Once upon a time a study was conducted on two groups of very young children. They were put in identical classrooms. Group A was given no rules. Group B was given a short list of structural rules. Observers noted that Group A had a hard time getting anything done because they spent all their time trying to establish order whereas Group B, understanding their parameters, managed to accomplish more because they understood (in a good way) their limits and didn’t have to waste time figuring them out. I heard this as a sermon nearly 20 years ago and surely I have not retold it exactly as I heard it, but hopefully the gist of it comes through. The lesson resonated for me because, ssh, don’t tell anyone, but there are some limits I really enjoy, as knowing my limits offers quite a bit of freedom in some instances.