Go Yankees?

I didn’t have much time on the porch this weekend. I was at my grandson’s first baseball game of the season (and of his) on Saturday. I never thought I’d be a Yankees fan, but his team is the Fire Station Yankees. So, I can wholeheartedly admit that I’m a Yankees fan, although I still choke a little on the words. My Grandson had two singles and an RBI and they won. Yes, they did keep score, but I’m sure everyone will get a participation trophy (because in an ideal world…). Go Yankees!!!

I wish I’d taken my coat. Another visitor from the Arctic northland crossed over into Texas Friday night and the mornings have been close to freezing. My long-sleeved shirt did little to take the bite out of a bone-chilling north wind (Note to self: just because the sun is brightly shining doesn’t mean the jacket can stay at home…). Such is the rollercoaster of Spring here in Fort Worth. Apparently, other parts of the country are dealing with the same up and down of the thermometer. While those in other places deal with snow, we deal with tornado warnings. At least we’re not shoveling snow, right?

Texas is known for many things, most of which I’m extremely proud of. I’m a native Texan, born in Fort Worth. I come from a very traditional Texas home. My father taught me early on to always be proud of where I was born. After all, I could’ve been born in Dallas. People from outside Texas think Dallas and Fort Worth are one and the same. I can assure they are not. One of local radio stations, The Ranch, says it best – “Fort Worth is where the west begins, and Dallas is where the east just kind of peters out”.

I’ve lived other places over the years. I spent high school and college in Colorado and my youngest son was born there. I loved the time I had there. I had an internship in Washington D.C. and soon learned I’m not an east coast kind of guy. I’ve lived in Houston and moved back to Colorado. They were nice places to visit but I’m glad to be back in Fort Worth. It seems God knew the perfect place for me. I’ll probably be laid to rest in our family plot a couple miles from here. I’m not sure what heaven is like, but I can’t help but think it will be a lot like Texas…

Yet, as much as I love my state, I’ve become honest enough to admit it has its defects, particularly in the political, educational, healthcare areas. For which I wish to apologize to the rest of the country. We’ve been egotistical and arrogant when we’ve ventured into other parts of the world (like Oklahoma for instance…). We’ve fostered a feeling of superiority, of “us and them”. Dad used to have a bumper sticker (the only one I’d ever seen him put on a vehicle) that read, “If you love New York, take I-30 east”. The immigrants to our beloved state, particularly those from north of the Red River, were different. They weren’t like “us”. They brought with them a manner of living that was different from ours. Too often, we have equated “different” with “bad”. I look back at my youth and not only was race or culture a dividing line, but religion as well. When we moved to Colorado, all our friends were ex-patriot Texans from the same church for the most part; everyone else was suspect.

I’m grateful to have been able to step outside of the state lines and look inside. I’m glad I can see my home, and myself, with a degree of clarity today. My perceptions of the world around me have changed. Dad always told me that if you could identify the problem, you were halfway to the solution. That’s been true for me: and the solution was a new lens through which to view life. I just hope it can be true for all of us…