The Idle American: Catching up is hard to do

The story goes that a long-ago West Texas man - beloved in his community - talked incessantly about Fort Worth, his favorite city, even though he’d never been there.

He usually referred to it as “Cowtown” or “Where the West Begins.” (The former nickname was introduced by cattle barons in the 1860s; the latter description started in 1923. That’s when “Mr. Fort Worth” - late Fort Worth Star-Telegram publisher Amon Carter - included it on his newspaper

masthead.)

One slow news day in West Texas years ago, a radio station personality gathered with the coffee crowd at the Dairy Queen. He suggested passing the hat so the old duffer could visit the city he loved, but had never seen.

It had been a good year for crops, and farmers, so they set the giving pace. Greenbacks splashed into a John Deere gimme cap like frogs at a fishing hole. The radio guy had expected only coins.

However, two men dropped in twenties, and several five-dollar bills.

A couple of misers - intent on giving 50 cents each - were shamed into contributing a dollar, so the bunch could brag that everyone gave folding money.

Would you believe they raised $125? Thankfully, that much cash at the time covered cost of train fare, lodging and food for an entire week in what is now the nation’s 10th largest city.

Upon his return, he was invited to spend 10 minutes on the air for a radio report about his visit to the local community. Most of his buddies figured he’d rattle on for much longer than 10 minutes. (It turns out, they were wrong.)

“Tell us everything about your magical visit,” the radio host instructed. What did you see in Fort Worth?” Following was a long stretch of radio silence,” a situation greatly feared at radio stations.

Dead air could be their undoing.

“I didn’t see it,” the oldster finally confessed. “There was so danged much happenin’ around the depot.”

*****

That’s how I feel about May, June and part of July. I didn’t see ‘em, what with health issues of both my wife and me were of the must face variety.

I plan to write remaining summer columns about material that has stacked up. So much to cover, so little space, but I’ll try.

(Reacting to the lettuce scare, most rabbits are throwing up their paws, ingesting only collard greens, spinach and carrots, hopping about with “I told you so” grins. People who have usually included lettuce in their diets, have largely eliminated it.)

Poor Taco Bell, with so many allegations about using bad lettuce, now has a lettuce free menu. In one state, rumors abound about contaminated lettuce AND pork. One mom and pop cafe, formerly known for its bacon/lettuce/tomato sandwiches, is shunned by its “T” substitute. Patrons consider it to be a tragic disappointment without the “BL” in front.

The lettuce thing impacts other vegetables. For years, NatureSweet has produced smiles with just two words on the label of Cherubs, packaged miniature tomatoes. The cellophane cover has a red arrow in one corner reading, “Lettuce Out!”

They’re likely to settle for open here, even if it lacks humor.

Republicans are red-faced about renting a live elephant for the state convention in Houston. Fee for the four-ton African pachyderm was $25,000, a figure thought to be a bit steep by convention participants.

This awakens memories of the state democratic convention in Houston 66 years ago. A friend, the late Groner Pitts - Brownwood’s merry mortician - pulled a good one, delivering two donkeys to what was then the swanky Shamrock-Hilton Hotel. Wearing name-identifying collars, “Peace” and

“Harmony” grazed and neighed for hours on the lush front lawn. High-ranking Democrats figuring that some other high-ranking delegates had authorized the shenanigans dummied up. (This was an expression Archie Bunker often directed to his wife, Edith, on TV’s long-ago popular weekly show, All

in the Family.) The hoax was discovered hours later.

My guess? Groner orchestrated the whole thing, delivering the animals with a pick-up truck pulling a trailer. Second guess: He may have borrowed the donkeys without the owner’s knowledge. And, both the pick-up and trailer likely were property of the guy who owned the donkeys.

Dr. Newbury, longtime chancellor of Howard Payne University, lives in the Metroplex. Email: newbury@speakerdoc.com. Website: www.speakerdoc.com. Phone: 817-447-3872.

‍