Columns

On a sunny Friday afternoon, the damnations of work behind you and the blessings of a weekend settling large on your horizon, you find yourself winding down a road that is as familiar as the scars in your own skin, one whose hills, dales and dusty side trails you can see perfectly with your eyes shut and nothing but motion to plot its passage.
Each fencepost is a milestone of your journey, a dot on your mind’s map so large and bold that you can name generations of people – their nicknames, their offspring, their ancestors – who lived behind them.

If the Mayans were correct, this will be my last column. As I’m sure you’ve heard, some say that the ancient Mayans predicted that the world would end on December 21, 2012.

With the benefit of hindsight, some pundits have noted that it’s now obvious that the world can’t go on without Twinkies.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Friday Night Lights out at Collins High School.

The TV cameras are on the sidelines, reporters are sticking notepads and microphones into the faces of guys who barely shave and Coach Jerry Lucas is trying to keep everything in perspective, even if he’s not married to the principal and no auto dealer is looking over his shoulder or whispering into his ear (that we know of).

Thus is the world of teams playing for state football championships. We may not be Texas, friends, but this is Texas-sized terrific.

I probably don’t have to tell you this, but last week a very important thing happened in our country. For some of the most partisan observers, the day couldn’t have come quickly enough, especially considering the disappointments of the last few months.