I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

For any who want more, complete list of all posts by month since 2011

  • The Horse You Draw is the One You’ll Ride


    Through the good and lean years and through all the in-between years…is a line from Frank Sinatra’s hit tune All the Way.  I looked through the archives of my posts and saw that my final post of 2012 was a blow-by-blow recap of that year in review for my life.  Not a bad post for one titled The In-Between Years but it seems like such a long time ago in a land far away from where I am today.  A year can fly past in a hurry and yet, the passage of time, regardless of our perception of its speed, never leaves us unchanged.

    I rarely “mix” blogs, but I want to quote The Red Man’s opinion of 2013 in his final December, 2012 post.  He has such a way with words.

    I’m not sure what my plans are for the New Year, but I don’t like the sound of 2013.   It’s an odd-numbered year, and I don’t accept odd-numbered years as authentic.  I would prefer to have all even-numbered years.  So we’d skip 2013 and go right on to 2014 and then 2016 and so on.   You get the picture.

    Yes, Red Man, I do get the picture and you are a prophet in your own ‘Hood.  2013 was one of those lean years Frank Sinatra sang about.  To tell the truth, the bad so outweighed the good I won’t bother to review it.  The better news is it’s finally coming to a close and 2014 is just around the next Bowl Game.

    I was talking to a cousin who called me on Christmas Day to wish me a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  I appreciated the call and the visit we had.  The thousand miles that separated us couldn’t break the ties that bind us.

    We were talking about the vicissitudes of life, as my daddy used to call them, and Gaylen who has spent over forty years hanging out with cowboys at rodeos told me one of their favorite quotes:  The horse you draw is the one you’ll ride. 

    I like it.  No apologies.  No excuses.  No whining about why did I get this horse.  No wondering about whether this rodeo was one I should’ve signed up for.  No mulling over how I ever got to be a cowboy in the first place.  It’s now or it’s never – so you ride.

    I have hope for 2014 along with The Red Man who loves even-numbered years and am optimistic that I will be a better person in the New Year.  I can’t control the rodeos around me, but I have been reminded I can still ride.

    I hope the horses you draw in 2014 will be ones you’ll want to ride.

    Teresa and I wish you all a Happy New Year from our family to yours!

  • No One is Born Hating


    My heroes when I was a child growing up in Grimes County, Texas were always the cowboys in old western movies I watched on Saturday mornings with my daddy.  They were men who settled their differences with guns but fired only at the bad guys who were easily identifiable as thieves, cattle rustlers, or other desperadoes out to do wrongs to innocent ranchers or townspeople.  The bad guys were often found drinking whiskey in saloons in the company of women with loose morals – women that sometimes turned out to be damsels in distress.  The cowboys rescued damsels in distress whenever they spotted one and fought to bring justice to the lawless frontier that was the American West.

    As I aged, my heroes have changed, but the people I most admire are still the ones who try to lift my vision toward higher ground, and by higher ground I mean a place where justice and equality reign in tandem against the forces of unfairness and dishonesty and outright evil.

    My cowboys have been replaced by men and women who choose to settle their differences with words that effect change as powerfully as the guns of the Wild West.  They are people whose examples give us hope of rescue when we find ourselves in the saloons we make of our lives.

    Nelson Mandela was such a hero to me, a man whose extraordinary personal sacrifice changed the hearts of his own nation and inspired dreams for peace and fairness around the world.

    “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion.  People must learn to hate, and if they learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite.”

    Twenty-seven years of his life unfairly imprisoned, and this man speaks of love.  Twenty-seven years of a life without personal freedom, and this man becomes a symbol of freedom for his nation and the rest of the world. Twenty-seven years of his life taken away, and this man gives…and gives…and gives until he dies.

    For me, Nelson Mandela was as brave as any cowboy I watched in the Saturday morning westerns of my childhood.  He didn’t have to ride a horse or shoot a gun to save a damsel in distress. Rather, he showed me the power of peace in the midst of turmoil and hope for  unity in a world divided artificially by the hate we’ve learned to love.

    I will miss knowing he is here.