Rushing's Ramblings

I've lived in Texas all my life except for a year in South Africa, 12 years in South Florida, and one year in Seattle.  You'd think I would have been in a good 'ole smoke-filled, boot-scooting,' hell-raising, beer-drinking Texas bar at least once in all those years.  Alas, I had not until this past Sunday. Two new friends of mine are musicians.  I didn't know their history, but I was curious about it.  I asked them about their music when they called me this past Saturday to ask if I'd volunteer for our organization at a theater in Llano next week.  They asked if I liked 'smoke-filled beer joints,' and I told them I didn't. Well, they play at one every other Sunday afternoon.  That hooked me.  I didn't think so at the time, but a beer joint should have been on my Bucket List.  Forget about Asia and Australia; I should have been thinking about local sites I still needed to experience before I went to the other side of the world! This parti

It's tiresome hearing the phrase "I'm so blessed" almost every day.  I always wonder if someone spewing this sentiment realizes how arrogant they sound. 'Being blessed' implies that God showed favoritism.  I don't believe that to be true.  God wouldn't choose you over anyone else.  What happens to us is either a result of actions we initiated, others initiated, or even sheer randomness. The more accurate word would be 'fortunate.'  You could even say you were 'lucky.' Some of the unfortunate things that have happened to me resulted from my poor judgment.  When I was a child, bad stuff was done to me.  Overall, I was unlucky as a child.  God didn't reach down and decide to choose me for the abuse I endured, nor has he chosen anyone else to live a miserable existence.   As an adult, I've been, by and large, very fortunate. I wasn't really fortunate or lucky since I set goals and achieved them just for the expe

The simple reason for wanting to Chair the Llano County for the Democratic Party is that I want to make a difference. I have marched and written hundreds of letters to our representatives in Congress.   Almost equally disturbing are the Texas Governor and Republican members of our legislature and their positions on public education, bathrooms, immigration, and women’s rights.   We must turn our state Blue again.   It begins locally. I’ve read the ACA and the recently proposed replacement bills.   I favor improving the ACA or, more importantly, moving closer to a single-payer system.   The insurance and pharmaceutical companies have made millions on the backs of the average American citizen.   This cannot be allowed to continue.   We also cannot allow Medicaid to be taken from the most vulnerable in our society, as proposed in the most recent bills.   I fear Medicare will be privatized, which is Representative Conaway’s intention along with many of his Congressional colleagues

Memories of Buddy creep into my head from time to time.  It's a problematic memory because of the circumstances surrounding the end of his life.  I suppose the grief and guilt I've experienced from this is enough penance, but I'm not sure even that's enough or if I'll ever fully recover. Richard was my boyfriend for a few years while I lived in South Florida.  We lived 80 miles apart but would see each other most weekends.  That is until 5 years of this kind of schedule passed, and I wanted him to curtail his sailing lessons to 2 weekends out of the month.  He was a great boyfriend in many respects, but the distance and infrequent time together began to bother me. We had been a couple for about a year when we decided to adopt a dog from a rescue organization.  He was described as being half chihuahua and half lab in an ad on Craigslist.  The description alone was intriguing. I discovered he had been in foster care for a month after a woman saved him from dyi

Although Buddy tries hard not to be bad, he sometimes can't help himself.  It's like a devil resides deep inside him, and evilness takes over spontaneously.  Despite this character flaw, he's the most loving dog to us that we could ever want.  From his crooked leg to his humongous ears, it's evident that he loves us unconditionally.  We're suckers for love. We recently visited Richard's son, Ben, and his family, who live in a beautiful rural area near Winston-Salem.  Our visit was during the last week of March when the spectacular colors of spring were spread abundantly on the rolling hills.  The family lives on a nice spread in the middle of those lovely North Carolina hills.  Pot-bellied pigs, guinea hens, chickens, ducks, dogs, and cats all co-exist in neatly built pens on the property and close to their house.  Each and every one of them is treasured as pets.  Roaming freely was a gorgeous diminutive red but partly lame Bantam rooster.  Unfortunately, h

It was another beautiful afternoon in the perpetually summer-like climate of South Florida. I suggested we go for a sunset sail as soon as Richard returned from his daylong keelboat class. Richard, in a highly agreeable mood, thought this would be splendid. Since he had been spending three weekends in a row teaching sailing, he wanted to make me happy. Plus, I'll admit it; the man LOVES to sail. Buddy, our rescue dog, was his usual happy self. After all, he was with the two people he loved the most and was getting to spend some time with us on the water. Buddy loves watching people, birds, and boats that hand around the water. He finds it fascinating to put his front paws on the side of the boat while hanging his head over the edge and watching the water as we sail along. He looks like he's in doggy heaven. It wasn't pleasant to sail with Buddy in the early days of our relationship. His first several trips on the boat were filled with whining, barking, and crying. He couldn

About the time I think that I have seen everything and been everywhere, something always comes along to take me by surprise.  It's not often one gets to see an inflated, quite dead cat floating belly-up in Biscayne Bay and a dolphin kissing the side of Angel, Richard's sailboat, all in one day. The most spectacular sight of that Saturday morning was seeing over 100 sailboats gathered at the same time near the Rickenbacker Causeway, with the Miami skyline serving as a backdrop.  Most sailboats already had their Spinnakers ballooning from a tailwind as we began the 'Miami to Key Largo Regatta.'  The scene brought back memories of the annual Hot Air Balloon Festival in Albuquerque with all the bright hues of the Hot Air Balloons before their early morning launch. Spinnakers are the most beautiful of the sails.  They are composed of much lighter material than a jib or a main sail.  Most days of sailing don't include the use of Spinnakers.  It's a special day ind

Karma, payback, or comeuppances have always intrigued me.  Those terms give me solace whenever I'm upset and don't want to face the consequences of my temper.  I have to tell myself during those times that, eventually, they'll get what's coming to them...whether or not I have the pleasure of seeing it. It was on a recent sailing trip when I was able to talk around someone who immediately experienced Karma.  His name is Richard. We left Angel's mooring at Coconut Grove Sailing Club after dark.  While some wind was close to shore, we weren't entirely out of the channel leading to Biscayne Bay when the wind died...completely.  We immediately set anchor in a safe location not far from the channel.  We had never seen the Bay so flat with absolutely no waves.  It felt similar to living in the Panhandle of Texas, where you can see forever across the flat, semi-arid land.  This was the water version of that sight. I jumped into the water as soon as the anch

Often, I experience sights you'd love and wish you'd be here with me.  That's when I miss you the most.  Maybe words aren't enough to share what I saw this weekend, but I'll try anyway. As Richard and I were sailing to the Keys last Friday night, thousands of white-winged birds flew over a vast expanse of water under an almost moonless night.  This was a sight for someone who grew up in an area practically devoid of birds except for a sparrow or two!  I even thought there were very few birds that flew at night. Terns need to be added to my list of nocturnal birds. It was in my state of awe that I thought of you, Daddy.  I know how much you love watching birds and how being here would have thrilled you, particularly on the deck of a sailboat on the way to the Tropics.  Seeing and hearing thousands of white-winged birds diving into the water in one direction with the view of the nighttime skyline of Miami in the other direction is one of those scenes I couldn'

One of those cold, blistery December days over 50 years ago, we brought my baby brother home from the hospital.  He was tightly wrapped in his baby blanket and lying calmly on our Mother's lap in the car's front seat.  I kept looking over her shoulder to glimpse this precious baby boy. After arriving home, I slipped quietly into our parent's room to get a good look.  I just couldn't believe how perfectly beautiful he was.  I kept thinking how lucky I was to have a real, live baby to love. And a perfect brother he proved to be.  He brought so much joy into our house.  All of us delighted in every stage of his life.  He was a quiet and happy child.  One brutal Texas Panhandle winter when he was 3 years old, he exclaimed, "The trees are naked!"  My Mother submitted his quote to Reader's Digest as a cute comment from a young child, but I don't believe it was published.  We thought he was a sage observer. When Daddy came home from work, he had to cal

Waves rocking the sailboat made it feel like I was back in a bassinet some 50-odd years ago, so it was next to impossible to open my eyes on Saturday morning.  When I finally shook the cobwebs from my head and walked up on deck around 9:30 AM, she was there...patiently waiting for me behind the boat. I didn't know how long she had been there, but I knew I had to do something about it.  She expected it.  As I peeled a big, fat Florida orange, I quickly realized I would share it.  She swallowed the first few bites whole in what appeared to be a fit of hunger.  After the fourth throw, she no longer wanted any more orange pieces and let them slowly sink into the clear turquoise sea. I learned a lot about My Gull that Saturday morning.  Richard, Captain of the fine sailing yacht named 'Angel,' informed me that My Gull was a migratory Atlantic Seagull, which meant she was only here from December through March.  The Atlantic Seagulls are the true snowbirds of South Florid

I dreamed of Rosa Parks last night.  She was sitting in a seat in the middle of a bus with Black men sitting on both sides of her.  I figured they were bodyguards and had joined her after news got out that this 'uppity Black woman' had dared to take her place amongst the Whites. The days of sitting in the back of the bus were over for her.  She worked long, hard days at low wages for a white family and had to take a bus every...damn...day.  Her great-grandparents had been slaves.  Enough was enough.   She felt she earned something more than a seat at the back of the bus.   She didn't know that this small act would set up a firestorm of millions of people being emboldened by her.  More and more people began speaking out, demonstrating, and even rioting to bring civil rights to the forefront.  The battle continued until, at last, civil rights passed.  Racism became somewhat more subtle over 50 years. But the Rosa Parks I saw in my dreams is still in that seat.

He had waited patiently in the lobby of Doc's office for almost an hour when he finally heard the words, "Okay, your turn, Mr. Caskey."  He was practically invisible, sitting in the corner with his tiny white dog.  I had noticed them and wondered what was wrong with his canine companion.  Slowly and a bit unsteadily, he arose from the chair while simultaneously trying to manage his cane and leash.  You could sense that this old man and his little dog meant everything to each other.  These two old-aged beings had found in each other perfect companionship.  It was unconditional love in its finest display.  Finally, one of Doc's assistants carried the dog into the exam room.  Mr. Caskey righted himself as best he could while painstakingly following them into the room. After bidding each other the usual 'hello's and how are you's,' it didn't take long to hear the whole story unravel.  Doc patiently reviewed with Mr. Caskey the options he had to tr

My husband, Jack, had more confidence than ability when we accepted an invitation in the mid-'70s to fly to Taos, NM, for the weekend. The female of the couple we were traveling with had a condo in Taos. This particular weekend was the annual meeting of their HOA. She was a newly licensed attorney who went to law school after being a teacher for some years and had worked as a law clerk in my husband's law firm before receiving her license. Her boyfriend was an executive for Philip Morris. I felt somewhat intimidated by this powerful couple. After all, I was still in my 20s and just getting started in my career and marriage. Jack had been flying for about a year and only had a rating for pilots flying visually in single-engine airplanes when we took off from Addison Airport that morning. He represented a management company that provided service and rentals for small aircraft owners. Planes from that company could be rented by others. Still, insurance companies required a check-o