Back in the saddle again...

Back in the saddle again...

I'm back in the saddle again
Out where a friend is a friend
Where the longhorn cattle feed
On the lowly gypsum weed
Back in the saddle again

That was the tune running through my mind this morning because the roads were finally clear enough to bike to the office today. Of course I didn't see any longhorns grazing on the Greencroft lawn, and I wouldn't recognize gypsum weed if I saw it. (Update: That's not true anymore, thanks to google image search.)

I guess that's better than the other song (Dylan, about 1970) that keeps coming to the surface every time little Sadie barks when I come through the door:

Went out last night to take a little round.
I met my little Sadie and I brought her down.
I ran right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.

She's a sweet old dog with a toothless bark. I really wouldn't dream of hurting her.

J & J invited me over to watch the PBS American Experience segment on New Orleans tonight. Fascinating history of a fascinating city; but why do those white folks have to be such power and abuse-hungry jerks? Anytime somebody can do something stupid and selfish, seems like its us white folk doing it.

Sigh.

So sad. So maddening.

Of course the high point is the few seconds of footage showing son Jesse playing fiddle. But just between you and me, Jesse should stick with the fiddle and not quit his day job to become a brewmaster.