The grand scheme

Displaced Texan... How’s that for the name of a column? It’s fitting for, and descriptive of, my current status in life. “Displaced Texan” has been our email address since my husband and I moved from Texas, and if it would fit, I would have it on my license plate. I am a Texan through and through, and almost eight years of living in not-Texas have solidified that fact.

But not-Texas is subject matter for another week. First things first—

What a legacy I have, as a third-generation newspaper columnist! In fact, I’m the sixth in a distinguished line of columnists: grandfather, grandmother, mother, uncle, brother… They’re a great, though very intimidating, group, and I would rather die than disappoint any of them.

So, what am I doing here?

My mother asked -- begged, really -- me for years to write. And I’ve actually wanted to write a column for several years. So, while I’m not doing this out of a sense of guilt, or as a messed-up, too late attempt to make my mom proud, I do admit that her death earlier this year was my catalyst.

But still, what am I doing here?

∞

And when I told my brother that I wanted a column, he was fired up and very supportive. Of course, he soon asked what would the column be about; what did I have to offer? I immediately popped off a quick, smart-alecky response, referring to my predecessors’ columns, and then I stopped, because, duh, he was talking about business. And he takes business very seriously. 

Oh, the pressure!

So I pitched my column to him, and he told me to send two or three to him, and if you’re reading this, well, yea!

∞

Just what do I envision for this little corner of the newspaper? A Pot Pourri of Perspectives Indexing some of This Day‘s thoughts from The Paperboy‘s sister? Not so much. That’s a lot to live up to: a lot of people, a lot of history, a lot of memories. Besides, there really is no definitive answer to my brother’s what-will-it-be-about question. We’ll just knock around whatever suits us each week, ok? You know, things in the grand scheme of life.

∞∞∞

And speaking of the grand scheme of life, I noticed these words on the sign outside of a church as I was driving through Oklahoma City last week:

“Ever see a hearse pulling a U-Haul?”