Deer Run Trail, By David R LewisNodaway Trail, by David R LewisOn the Calico Trail, by David R LewisOn the Payback Trail, by David R LewisOn the Ogallala Trail, by David R LewisOn the Killdeer Trail, by David R LewisOn the Cutthroat Trail, by David R LewisEndless Journey Toward an Unknown Destination, by David R LewisIncidents Among the Savages, by David R LewisFear of the Father:  Call Me Crockett, by David R Lewis

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Compassion

I’m sure many if not even most of you out there lay awake nights wondering why I choose to spend the vast majority of my time sequestered away from civilization in the company only of Digger the outstanding dog, Clancy the incredible dog, Grizz the irritating cat, and Laura the coveted wife.  What could possibly have been so disconcerting, if not horrible, as to send me into voluntary exile?  You win.  I’ll tell you.

There was a time in my life when I wanted to change the world.  Really.  I didn’t want to carry placards, march in circles, and shout slogans – that’s not my style.  I didn’t aspire to go to India and work among the poor – the food’s too spicy.  The Peace Corps seemed to be a bit extreme – no television.  So, I became a cop.  My motives were pure.  They really were.  I wanted to crush bad guys to their knees and promote racial harmony in a world of difference.  After a few years of bruises and stitches, shootings and knifings, automatic weapons fire – at me, being spat upon and called names, mindless judges, soulless lawyers, and incredibly doltish juries, my lofty ideals were pretty much reduced to “Us against Them” – “Them” being the civilians of the world.  When I realized what I was becoming, I ran away and found myself in the grasp of almost Arkansas, Missouri, one of the true remaining bastions of “duh” on the planet.

5 comments to Compassion

  • Bobby J.

    Lemme see…I used to know this one. Sweden? No, that’s not it. Uganda! Uh, Alaska?
    Shoot…wow…Texas! That’s it, Texas. When Jim Crocket and David Bowie kicked the hell outa Santa. What do I win?

  • Marylou

    Bobby! Are you moonlighting as a hostess somewhere? I didn’t think you had the legs for it. By the way, that was Santa and his sister Anna.

  • Rodger

    I’m not sure if geography has much to do with ignorance, but I’m pretty convinced that it does influence many people in their willingness to freely display it. I assume that “Almost Arkansas, Missouri” is close to, if not actually in, the Ozarks. I sometimes refer to those particular inhabitants as “Hee-Hawyers.” I can do that. I’m originally from Jeep, Arkansas. Nice to be from Jeep. Way from.

  • David

    Rodger…I’m familiar with the area. If I recall correctly the name of the town is “Geep” with a “G” but pronounced like the Jeep vehicles.

  • Rodger

    You’re right. It is Geep. I went with the phonetic version so readers would get the pronunciation right.

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