Mad Jack Hanks: Tales From The O-NO Ranch 6-18-12
Gentle readers, I was in our local BK this morning having a two dollar breakfast. Occasionally I would glance out the window and observe all the smoke that was drifting off the mountain down into our little burg.
Yep, another huge forest fire was ripping away just west of our community. I was thinking about all the property being lost and as far as I knew maybe some lives. There was a couple in their late 40s (I’m guessing) sitting not too far away and when they finished their meal they got up and the guy turned and looked at me as if I was “answer man.”
“How long has that far (fire) been burnin’?” he asked.
“Well, it started day before yesterday from what I understand,” I replied.
“Boy it looks like a bad ‘un.” he offered.
“Yes sir, it’s going to do a lot of damage before it’s all said and done.” I shot back.
“I hear they’re doin’ some drilling up here in this country?”
“Yep, they are, in fact they drilled a well right near my house this past year,” I mumbled.
“Gas or all (oil)?” he asked.
“It’s all” (oil) I answered.
“That’s even better cause gas is really cheap now,” he offered.
“Where are you guys from?” (as if I had to ask)
“We’re from Texas, Buffalo, Texas.”
“No kiddin’, I shot back. “I’m an old Texas boy myself. I know a little about where you live. That’s just south of Abilene, right,” I asked.
“No sir, it’s south of Corsicana ’bout 40 miles.”
“Hummm, well I guess I don’t know as much about Texas as I thought.”
“Yer thinkin’ ’bout Buffalo Gap. Now that’s just south of Abilene.”
“You’re right,” I said, “I got the two mixed up.”
“Where are you headed?” I asked.
“We’re goin’ to Montana up to that Glacier Park. We come up here every year and go to Montana or some place here in Colorado or Wyoming.”
We said our good byes and out the door they went. I got to thinking it was kinda’ nice to hear and speak a little “Texan” this morning over breakfast. I used to talk just like that. You know that “far and all.” Over the years I have begun to speak a little crisper and not drag out my words into the next county. Folks are folks, anywhere and everywhere they come from and I was refreshed to hear soft spoken friendly Texans express themselves the way they had been taught since childhood.
Years ago I pondered the street language spoken from the ghettos in our large cities around America. I just could not believe that people couldn’t speak any better than that. It dawned on me that I was just as handicapped when I was speakin’ “Texan” to people that were not used to that long drawn out delivery. We speak in our native tongue and it doesn’t matter if it’s a New Jersey dialect or it’s from Georgia. We just speak what we have been influenced by our environment to speak. Just the same I relished my little “far and all” experience this morning.
Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion and be darn sure you don’t toss that cigarette butt out the window and that your campfire is completely out!
I’ll c y’all, all y’all.