Opinion

Two Confederate generals sat down with Emperor Maximilian on Aug. 24, 1865 and presented their bold plan for keeping the Austrian puppet on the Mexican throne.

The battle-scarred cavalrymen of the famed Iron Brigade spent the last weeks of the Civil War guarding Little Rock against an attack that never came. When confirmation of Lee’s surrender finally filtered through the lines, Gen. Jo Shelby fell back to Texas to await further orders.

My wife and daughter came to me this past week, asking for my help with our daughter’s first writing prompt in school. The need for assistance involved applying critical thinking to Aslan’s death in “The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe,” C.S. Lewis’ masterpiece allegory. She was asked, “Was it good for the witch to kill Aslan?” 

My dad used to tell me that when you play in the hog pen, you begin to smell like a hog–his instruction for finding good friends and associating with people who made smart choices. What my parents did not apprehend was that I was the child parents warned their kids about. I was not a good influence on other kids. 

Paralyzed and partially blind, Temple Lea Houston spent his forty-fifth birthday on Aug. 12, 1905 waiting for death to put an end to his suffering.

Sam Houston was 67 years old and fighting a losing battle to keep Texas in the Union, when his eighth and last child (and the firstborn in the governor’s mansion) came into the world. Driven from office by the secessionists seven months later, the hero of San Jacinto did not live to celebrate his son’s third birthday.

It’s a line lifted from a short poem written by Robert Gray in 1868. “Ignorance is bliss when it is folly to be wise.”

Ever fresh, it is an ongoing ponderance, like whether spearmint gum retains its flavor after overnight repose on the bedpost.

My Uncle Mort--cocksure of much--seems ever ready to provide answers, sometimes before questions are posed. Yes, his has been a blissful life to date…

When he called the other day, he was wired, eager to tell me about his “wackiest” dream ever.

I am so thankful there will be no drywall in the New Jerusalem (the celestial city that awaits the saints in Heaven)! I have spent the last week hanging, taping, sanding and cleaning up sheetrock. If you have never done drywall, you are really missing out.

It seems odd that they call it “drywall” since a person has to sweat profusely to install it. The process is akin to using a shovel. My friend jokes that shovels are the number one contributor to global warming because every time he touches one, he overheats. 

Two “river pilots” on patrol over the international border on Aug. 10, 1919 mistook the Rio Conchos River for the Rio Grande and a wrong turn took them deep into the Mexican interior.

A chronic burr under the Lone Star saddle since San Jacinto, Mexican bandits were again making life miserable on the border, especially in the Big Bend. Utilizing the latest technology in the war against this old menace, the Border Patrol took to the skies in June 1919.

Critics swear that the French successfully smeared “lipstick on a pig” for a big chunk of the 2024 Olympic Games. The French, though, are used to sloughing off jokes and insults.

Someone said that if they can’t find an argument to join, they’ll start one. Further, on slow days, restaurant waitpersons resort to insulting each other. Even  the French military is thrown under the bus. Another joke claims that when a hotel kitchen fire broke out, the French army surrendered.

I love that our national bird is the bald eagle. It remains a remarkable symbol of freedom and perspective. Legend has it that Ben Franklin wanted that bird to be a turkey. Whether or not the great inventor and founding father wanted cold cuts appears irrelevant today. Our symbol of national independence has soared over our great nation for almost 250 years. But these marvelous creatures are not born flying. 

Uncle Mort’s contraptions and inventions usually are “far-fetched.” Finally, he’s come up with one that is “near-fetched.” And, it may be of considerable help to those among us who daily dread what used to be a thoughtless and effortless routine: putting on socks.

Some of us have basically surrendered, choosing to go barefoot at home, remaining sockless unless attending church, funerals or weddings.