The BlindDaredevil Stunt

The oilfield companies moved their rigs around to new locations as the oil rights acquisition were made with the land owners. The field workers followed these rigs as they were moved from one location to the other.This was my fathers trade and our family followed the rigs.




Just south of the Arkansas state line was a little Louisiana farm town called Plain Dealing. Downtown had but two blocks all on one side of the street. The county mill stood just outside this cluster of red bricks at the railroad tracks. Linseed oil and years of traffic had been worn smooth the wooden floors of the lone grocery.. At the door as you entered stood a fifty gallon wooden barrel full of long sugarcane stalks .Five cents and you could suck on  sugar cane juice with it all runnin down your chin till you wouldn't want no more, while watchin the farmers movin about their 'come to town Saturday' business. Visiting and people watching was the main source of entertainment for this little community.


Dad brought me a baby raccoon he found on a rig location in the country.
Ringo and I made fast friends soon as he realized who feed him. Ringo
would ride on  my shoulder on a leash as we moved about this particularly
busy Saturday suckin on the sugarcane. Ringo would ask for a  bite each
time I had one like I was getting one up on him. He was not about me gettin
ahead of him in the sugar cane eatin bidness. He'd make that little R2D2
sound if I had two bites in a row and would  lean out and look at me,
"you did it again" ,he'd say with his eyes.

This particular Saturday along the edge of main street people began to
lineup as to see something of an event I knew nothing about. I maneuvered
through the crowd to get a good view and people would moved aside when
Ringo gave em the 'don't make me do it' raccoon look. They didn't.

.I could see there was a lowered black Mercury, about a forty-nine in the
middle of the street. A town official was standing along side the driver
of the Merc. announcing," this brave young man was actually going to put on
this blindfold and drive down main street full throttle". Not to worry,
we were told as unbelievable as it may seem, this he would attempt with the
police approval.There was, 'all a murmuring and I'll swear', going about with
the crowd as if this was the most radical craziness with folks craning their
necks for a better look shaking their heads in 'can you imagine'!

With a one,two and Go,the town offical dropped his arm,  the Merc shoot
down main street reaching the screaming stop at the out shirts of main street.
Driver got out of the car took off his blindfold and raised his arms in victory
to those in the crowd. Everybody clapped and yell approval for this young
dare devil and began to express their opinion about the affair to their friend
standing beside em. This stood as entertainment in small Louisiana towns
during the mid fifties. Even Ringo thought it was small potatoes.

I carried a lot of respect for Ringo's opinion. Ringo had bitten my dad
up under the chin and I was astonished Ringo survived dad's response.
What happened that day, Ringo had climbed up a big,real big tree in the
front yard and refused my calls to come back to me. I pleaded with
my dad ,big Sam, to go get Ringo and dad did. He fetched a ladder and
climbed up to the first limb where Ringo waited. Dad reach the limb climbing
out hugging the limb with legs and arms. See, dad was a big man and yes
that limb was very thick but Ringo just kept backing farther away facing
dad till the limb begin to bob and sway from big Sam's weight. Dad would
hug scoot and Ringo would back farther away. It got unbearable shaky till
dad swung a hand out and knock Ringo down the ground. I screamed
and throw myself to my misguided buddy Ringo crying all while as dad
returned to safe footing .

Big Sam picked up Ringo in one arm and the ladder he carried with his arm
through the steps of the ladder placed on his shoulder and proceeding
througha side yard gate when Ringo recovered just as dad was in the
middle of going through that gate with the long ladder riding on his shoulder.
Ringo bite dad on the chin. Dad started swinging the ladder banging on the
sides of the gate back and forth. Ringo held on tight to dad chin till finally
dad got a free arm and pulled Ringo off  his chin dropping  him..
I ran to Ringo's rescue and we escaped to our secret spot in the woods.

Laying there under the trees where no one could find us we laughed
thinking about dad swinging the ladder back and forth caught in the gate
with my buddy hangin on his chin.for dear life.
Ringo was the best.

Superman and the Edison sessions #1

West Texas culture for kids was fundamental 
and salty.It either worked for you or it didn't.
I remember living on the Rankin highway in
Midland Texas.This highway came east from
Main St. downtown. My family lived in a silver
metal thirty two foot by eight mobile home.
This was an oil boom town and the trailer park was
oil field workin folks.

One of my pastimes would send me standing along side the
Rankin highway watching people in solid metal bodied cars
and trucks roaring down that road going all these places
my mind could only entertain. I had been out of town my
family moved around from rig to rig location so I had a
small notion that there was other places. One thing I knew,
when I grow up I'm moving away from this.I didn't like
the way Midland smelled and I thought it was dirty.
Sulfur carried in the air like incense in a Hindu Ashram and
sulfur is not so inviting.

The oil culture is a rough and ready crowd.Oil stained overalls,
silver metal hard hats wearing steel toed boots was the uniform 
my dad and his tribe wear.The most important thing my father 
wanted you to know that he was by-god tough and he could whup
your ass. There was a more then fair chance that he could.
Tough was important in the oil field.

My mother's name was Leda. A dark haired beauty that was the female
embodiment of" Popeye". She was ironic and eccentric and born in
the year of the rooster. Mother worked at the downtown theater
and I could get in free.Now this made mother the gatekeeper of 
dreamland  and nobody could stop me from going to the movies.

If the movies were too scary I would have to get down and look
through the space between the seats in front of me.
Otherwise, as I laid back in those nice theater sets and watched the
hero kick the villains butt with one punch ,get the girl and all his 
buddies gathering around pattin his back in "atta a boy's". 

The fifties movies were the lineage of superman sent through Greek arts.

Years pass by with this manhood idea of physical dominance.
In my late twenties I found world of foreign dreamland, 
European films, the french flix. The hero was everyman and he got 
a pat on the back and occasionally the hot chick too. A punch seldom 
thrown. What a revelation this was to me. How thrilling to just be
a guy ,ordinary  as can be and this is acceptable and respected 
where ever he chose to go. Wow,I can just be me and get the girl too.
Could this be true? I know it was.  It seemed so reasonable. So this
was my therapy sessions. Going to the Edison theater every time 
a new foreign film hit the Ed. My sessions were three dollars an hour.
I was never late.