The Tuskaloosa Independent Monitor

Pretty good fox photos and a 2012 yellow crowned night heron on Pascagoula Bay

Sidewalk Story

Tonight Buck felt his hometown street's timeless heritage and imagined how the present moment would impact his future. Buck quickened his pace as he walked toward the Wekiwahatchee as if to burn off some of his excess energy as he contemplated how the universe might be playing with his emotions.

Buck stopped to lean down and pluck a Bahia grass seed stalk. Seventy years of practice enabled Buck to expertly remove the blade of grass at the base of the stalk before sticking the succulent straw between his lips and resuming his journey down the Adams Avenue sidewalk. "I'm sure glad Bahia grass ain't toxic because this po' boy has chewed up a few bales of this stuff along the way." Crunching on his piece of greenery reminded Buck of how much Bahia grass was a big part of his life story due to his family's pioneering work in establishing Bahia grass as the preferred pasture cover in the Wekiwahatchee Valley and just like the name "Adams Avenue", it brought him back to the disturbing memories of tonight's Youtube video with Gene Rayburn talking about the 1939 formation of the Wekiwahatchee Cattlemen's Association while his Grandma Lewis played the piano. That video clip had bypassed all of his psyche's defenses and triggered an unprecedented emotional release that had both stunned and embarrassed Buck.

The typical flow state stream of consciousness Buck usually enjoyed had been interrupted by the emotional interference produced by the aftermath of his mysterious catharsis and he knew he had to do something about it. If ever Buck needed to practice his daily personal rebirth rituals on the riverbank, it was tonight.

"Another wonderful evening down by the riverside searching for what to think as I restore my uncluttered mind." Buck mused.

As Buck strolled north toward the river, he recalled a line from the 23rd Psalm, "He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his namesake." In a moment Buck experienced a sudden flash flood torrent of thought that produced such distress he was forced to dig deep within his inner reality in order to seek contact with the roots of his humanity.

"It's those thumb drives," Buck exclaimed. "Damn, that's it! Those thumb drives had a lot to do with turning on my waterworks over at Jake's house tonight!"

During the previous week, Buck had received a small carton in the mail containing a dozen thumb drives that some guy found in a box of computer parts he bought at a Panama City garage sale. One of the thumb drives was labeled with Buck's address and when the guy in Panama City saw that the thumb drives contained family photos, he'd mailed them to Buck out of common courtesy. Buck figured that the thumb drives ended up at the garage sale because they had been in his estranged late wife's possessions which had been disposed of after her death by her live-in boyfriend.

Many years before her death, during the conflict that preceded their permanent separation, Buck thought the thumb drives had been destroyed when she piled all of Buck's photos, color slides and personal documents in the backyard barbecue pit and burned it all. Buck had assumed he'd lost the thumb drives along with all the original pictures, color slides and documents during that disastrous conflagration which they electronically preserved.

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Robert,

Thank you for all that you have provided for my family. I know you have seen it all and have been such a big support to my family since day one. We appreciate you maintaining the office and entertaining my grandfather and my Dad for so many years. Not many people know my family better than you so I appreciate the relationship you have with us for so many years. It makes me sad to clean out Dad's office but I know you will keep this place in great shape. Thank you again and see you in a few weeks!

Love,

Jack