Happy Trails, Part 177: Furrowed brow has vanished

For starters, I need to beg your forgiveness for putting this mug shot of your friendly blogger on this post. I have a reason for doing so.

I want you to look at something that’s missing from my mug. My brow isn’t furrowed.

Back when I was working for a living, my face often reflected the tension I experienced during my “normal” work day. My Aunt Verna used to scold me affectionately that she worried my forehead between my eyebrows would become permanently wrinkled. I would laugh. So would she.

Truth is, near the end of my working career the tension became more prevalent and it showed quite dramatically in what I suppose one could call those “tension wrinkles” on my forehead.

However, one of the countless joys I now have these days is the lack of tension. It’s reflected in this picture.

I snapped this selfie this morning. I am sitting in my man cave as I write this brief blog post. I did not consciously relax my mug when I took this shot. I noticed the lack of any furrows on my forehead and thought I’d share this picture with you on this blog post and declare that my retirement journey has restored a sense of relaxation.

And so … the journey goes on.

Here’s a thought: Pray with our eyes open

A blog item I posted about the threat posed by shooters who walk into houses of worship produced an interesting response from a dear friend of mine who happens to be a member of the clergy.

He mentioned a doctor friend of his who took the course necessary to obtain a concealed handgun carry permit. My friend said he doesn’t know if his friend brings his gun to church on Sunday.

But he added: My doctor told me that churches are the most vulnerable places because we all close our eyes to pray.

He was talking, of course, about the White Settlement, Texas, church shooting that left two parishioners dead before a security guard shot the gunman to death six seconds after he opened fire.

There’s a cautionary message in my friend’s response. I think from now on I will pray with my eyes open.

Cowboys’ coach is out … finally!

(Photo by Harry How/Getty Images)

That went well, yes? Well, no. It didn’t.

Jason Garrett has been booted as the Dallas Cowboys head football coach. The Cowboys have told Garrett his contract won’t be renewed. He’s out of a job.

However, all of this is coming from media reports. The Cowboys’ ownership hasn’t made a formal announcement just yet.

Jumpin’ jiminy. The owner of the NFL franchise, Jerry Jones, has made a mess of it. No surprise there. The owner operates on a clumsiness quotient that has virtually no rival in the National Football League.

I won’t get into the Xs and Os of the job Garrett did. I don’t know enough about football to speak intelligently about it. He won more games than he lost. He just didn’t win any Super Bowl games during his time as coach. That’s the benchmark for success in Jerry Jones’ world. To be fair, Jones isn’t the only pro sports franchise owner who cherishes league championships.

However, I just hate that Garrett had to be called the Cowboys’ head coach while the owner/general manager was interviewing prospective successors. He didn’t deserve to be disrespected in that manner.

As for whoever dons the coach’s headset next year and beyond, I hope he’s ready to deal with an owner who thinks he enough about pro football to act as a general manager, which to my way of thinking requires a skill set a zillionaire businessman just doesn’t possess.

Dredging up memories of a true-blue eccentric … or weirdo

A fellow and I spoke this afternoon about someone I no longer think much about, but someone who occupied a most unique position in the community where I once lived.

The individual with whom I spoke said he is putting the finishing touches on a documentary film he is producing about none other than the late Stanley Marsh 3.

He and I hope to meet face to face at a later date. We will discuss Marsh in greater detail. The gentleman, who said he lives in Austin, is looking for a more longer-range view of Marsh. He thinks I can provide it.

How is that? Well, as I told the filmmaker, I did not know Marsh well. I mostly knew of him. Indeed, this individual’s reputation was, to put it kindly, far-reaching in the extreme.

Marsh was a premier eccentric. He also possessed tons of money. He was the purveyor of avant garde artwork, such as the lawn signs that cropped up on people’s yards all over Amarillo. They had flaky, sometimes nonsensical phrases. But they were fun to read and they often drew a laugh. The signs were the product of the Ant Farm, a Stanley Marsh 3 “organization”; he employed young people, mostly boys, to work at the museum.

That is my segue into the darker side of Marsh’s life. He was accused of doing nasty things with these young men. It provided plenty of grist for social commentary throughout the Panhandle. I reckon that the documentarian with whom I spoke will want to talk about that, too, and about Amarillo’s reaction to the allegations.

Arguably, though, Marsh’s greatest “contribution” to Amarillo’s popular culture rests with the Cadillacs that are buried nose down in that field just south of Interstate 40 and west of Amarillo’s city limits. Cadillac Ranch has been immortalized in a Bruce Springsteen song and is actually identified on the official Texas highway map.

I told the documentary filmmaker that I spoke with Marsh perhaps three times over the nearly 18 years I served as editorial page editor of the Amarillo Globe-News; twice by phone and once in person. Marsh was kind enough to tell me a time or two that he liked my work at the newspaper and I took that compliment as the highest praise imaginable.

Well, Marsh died in 2014. He left a decidedly mixed legacy. Folks admired him for his philanthropy and his generous contributions to health and higher education in the Panhandle, as well as his goofiness or reviled him because of the allegations that were leveled against him.

I will look forward to visiting with this filmmaker. My task now is to dig deeply into my own memory of what I can recall about a man who, depending on your point of view, was either an icon or a pariah.

Hearing the unspeakable … in church

(Andrew Sentipal/Dreamstime/TNS)

I could have lived an entire lifetime without hearing the words that opened our Sunday morning worship service in church today.

A wonderful gentleman who we have befriended at our Collin County church stood before us and implored those in our congregation who have a state of Texas-approved concealed handgun permit to bring their weapons with them to worship. 

To be brutally honest, the message from our friend hit me like a punch in the gut.

We are reeling in North Texas by the events of a week ago, when a gunman walked into the West Freeway Church of Christ in White Settlement, near Fort Worth, and opened fire. He killed two parishioners before a volunteer security guard at the church fired a single shot from his pistol and killed the gunman.

The guard is being hailed as a hero. Indeed, he did his job perfectly. It took all of six seconds to eliminate the threat by the shooter.

This is what we have come to in this country of ours. Men and women of faith are now fearing for their safety in houses of worship. In the name of God Almighty, what in the world is happening to us? Moreover, I am quite certain other church congregations all across the country heard something similar to what we heard this morning as we prepared for prayer.

Our friend acknowledged that he packs a pistol hidden away; he is licensed by the state. He said he attended a seminar sponsored by our police department that spoke to the danger posed by lunatics who venture into houses of worship to perform their evil acts.

He gave us a brief primer on what to do in the event gun violence erupts in our church. Our friend told us what he would do while standing guard at the door, as he does each Sunday.

I know I am stating the obvious, but we are living in dangerous times. I just never imagined hearing what came to us today. It illustrates the dire peril we all face … even as we go to church to pray.

God help us.

FW police chief to officers: Wear your gear for Sunday worship

Fort Worth Police Chief Ed Kraus has offered an interesting and, frankly, creative idea for the men and women who serve the public in that community.

In light of the West Freeway Church of Christ shooting in White Settlement a few days ago in which a gunman shot two parishioners to death before being killed by a security guard, Chief Kraus has asked his officers to wear their uniforms during Sunday worship services.

That is an excellent idea that police departments all across the nation ought to ponder enacting.

Kraus’s idea is simple and straightforward. Wear the uniform, with all the gear associated with it — yes, firearms, Taser, handcuffs and club — while praying to God. It might deter some future lunatic from doing what the White Settlement shooter did.

Kraus’ message went out on Twitter. It says in part: This simple act will help reassure congregants, as well as serve as a deterrent for anyone intending harm. Ideally, officers will first inform their worship leaders and obtain their agreement.

My strong hunch — given the life-threatening danger presented by such lunacy — is that there isn’t a worship leader anywhere who would resist.

Recall Einstein’s projection about ‘WW IV’

An excellent analysis on Politico.com suggests that Iran isn’t likely to trigger an overarching armed conflict in the Middle East in reaction to the death of Revolutionary Guard Gen. Qassem Sulemaini on orders from Donald Trump.

The Iranians are blustering about a severe response to Sulemaini’s death in a U.S. air strike. Ray Takeyh, a senior fellow at the Council on Foreign Relations, believes Iran will back off and will not provoke a conflict that would fester into a third world war.

Read his essay here.

It goes without saying that I hope he’s right. I’ll say it anyway: I hope he’s right.

I want to look back at a statement attributed to the physicist Albert Einstein, who after contributing to the development of the atomic bomb as part of the Manhattan Project during World War II, offered his view of how future world wars would unfold.

He supposedly said he didn’t know how World War III would be fought, but said he was certain “World War IV would be fought with sticks and stones.”

If ol’ Albert Einstein didn’t say precisely that, the message remains vital if the Iranian mullahs have any ideas about how they intend to react to the death of a killer.

As Takeyh said, the “last thing (the mullahs) need is a costly confrontation with a president willing to do things they once considered unimaginable.”

Some way to change the subject

I don’t know for certain why Donald Trump chose this particular moment to kill an Iranian terrorist leader, but it certainly has yanked the nation’s attention away from the other big story on a lot of Americans’ minds.

That would be the pending impeachment trial in the U.S. Senate. Yeah, we still have that matter to settle, too, but back to the crisis of the moment.

The president ordered the air strike that killed Qassem Sulemaini, head of the Revolutionary Guard. The Iranian government is angry. As in fiercely angry, you know? Who can blame ’em? Imagine some hostile power launching an air strike that killed, say, our chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Sulemaini was, I suppose, the equivalent in Iran. Except that he was a hostile enemy combatant. He was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of U.S. service personnel and thousands of others. Therefore, his death is nothing approaching an “assassination.”

However, it has steered our attention away from impeachment. I suppose that’s — politically speaking — good for Trump. He is now dealing with the potential after effects of this surprise hit.

I’ll be candid on this point: Given the stakes involved with a potential Iranian response to Sulemaini’s killing, public discussion about impeachment juxtaposed with the dire peril that might be lurking will seem even more like a partisan exercise than it is already.

I guess my sincere hope at this moment is that the Donald Trump administration is pulling out all the diplomatic stops in an effort to prevent war with Iran. Trump says such an event would be over quickly, and that Iran wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of firepower from the world’s pre-eminent military power. Remember, though, the Bush administration said as much about going to war with Iraq; it didn’t work out that way.

The president did say the other evening that he prefers peace over war. Uh, so do the rest of us, Mr. President. The sooner we can resolve this Iran crisis the sooner we turn our attention to pondering that impeachment trial.

Killing of murderer underscores nature of this fight

The killing this week of Qassem Sulemaini underscores a fundamental question about the crisis that was thrust on this country on 9/11: How we do declare victory in a war against international terrorism?

Sulemaini led the Iranian Revolutionary Guard. He had buckets of American blood on his hands. He needed to be hunted down and killed. And so it happened in a drone strike in Baghdad, Iraq, where he and his forces have been fighting against Iraqis and U.S. troops.

More than 18 years ago this country was dragged into a war of someone else’s choosing. Al-Qaeda terrorists pulled off a stunning and cunning surprise attack on this country from which we likely never will recover emotionally, at least not as long as there are Americans still living who remember that terrible day in 2001.

We went to war. President Bush said at the time that our fight was not with Muslims, but with those who perverted their faith into a demented justification for the act of evil.

And so the fight has gone on and on.

Our special operations forces killed al-Qaeda mastermind Osama bin Laden in May 2011. They went into action again in October of this past year and killed Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, the leader of the Islamic State. They, too, needed to die. Did their deaths or the death of Sulemaini spell the end of their terror networks? No. They all found someone to replace them; Sulemaini’s deputy commander has stepped into the commander’s role in Iran.

I don’t intend to suggest this country should give up fighting the terrorist monsters. I merely intend to seek to put this fight into what I hope is a proper perspective.

We should acknowledge that terrorists have existed since the beginning of civilization. The 9/11 attack at the beginning of this century emboldened them. They have become more brazen than before. Moreover, the rest of us are paying more careful attention to their hideous rhetoric and, yes, their actions.

We can take some comfort in the tactical victories our side is able to score: the deaths of terror leaders and the battlefield successes we can secure as we seek to defeat the terrorist monsters.

I cannot stop wondering, however, whether a declaration of victory against terror is even possible. The terrorists, I fear, possess a deep bench full of lunatics who are willing to die for some perverted cause.

Therefore, the fight must continue.

How does Bernie keep raking in all that cash?

I want to stipulate a political truism, which is that lots of money doesn’t always translate to lots of votes.

Former Florida Gov. Jeb Bush had tons of cash when he launched his 2016 bid for the Republican Party presidential nomination. He, um, didn’t make the grade.

Four years later, we have Sen. Bernie Sanders out there raking in huge sums of money. They’re from small donors, he keeps telling us. Sanders, who’s actually an independent senator from Vermont, is running for the Democratic Party presidential nomination.

I am baffled how so many voters keep “feeling the Bern.” They keep pumping all that cash into his coffers. He finished 2019 with a huge haul of $34.5 million in the final quarter of the year. He’s loaded, man!

You may color me amazed, along with baffled. The man sings off a single song sheet page. Wealthy people are bad for the country, he keeps saying. Every single answer to every question seems to turn on “wealth inequality.” He wants to redistribute the wealth, you know … take from the rich and give to the not-so-rich. I guess it has its appeal, but I am not sure why.

I hate to bring age into this argument, but he is 77 years old. He would be the oldest man ever inaugurated president were he to win. I mention this with some trepidation as I just turned 70 myself this past month.

Sanders has yet to demonstrate a broad swath of knowledge on matters far from the income inequality theme he keeps preaching.

The war on terror? Climate change? U.S.-Russia relations? Middle East policy? We know what he believes about taxation.

Plenty of my friends are supporters of Bernie Sanders. I just won’t sign on until I get a sense of a more well-rounded, comprehensive platform on which he intends to run. So far, I am not seeing it.

But … he still is awash in campaign cash.

Go figure.