June 12, 2003: Tomorrow we're heading for a visit with Judy's mom and with the Mexia High School Class of 1959. The class gets together every year at this time, but it seems to me that interest is waning. Lots of people have said they wouldn't be there this year, and I suspect that the turn-out will be the worst ever. Even the guy who urged the yearly meeting isn't going to come. What does that tell us? I'll be there, though, and it will be good to see some of the old gang again. And "old" is the right word. How could it be that we graduated 44 years ago? It seems impossible, but there it is. Good grief.

June 9, 2003: Can it have been five days since I posted? Doesn't seem like it. The Repubs are spinning like crazy on the WMD issue these days, but here's a thought: What if they know exactly where the WMD are hidden out and are just waiting until the Demo outcry reaches a peak of frenzy to spring it on them? That would be a stroke of genius. Somehow I don't think that's the case, but it's an interesting idea.

June 4, 2003: Today is my 38th wedding anniversary. Judy and I got married in Thornton, Texas, and honeymooned in Colorado Springs. It was the first time that I'd ever been out of the state, if you don't count a day trip across the border into Mexico when I was a kid. These days, most kids have travelled more than that by the time they're out of kindergarten. Anyway, we had a wonderful time, so it was a good start to the marriage. Now that we've lasted this long, maybe we'll make it for a few more years.

June 3, 2003: Went to the dentist yesterday to have a lost filling replaced. I thought this morning that the problem was solved, but now it's later in the day, and I'm not so sure. I may have to get a crown. I'd really hate that. I'm hoping that I just need one more day of recovery and that by tomorrow all will be well.

June 2, 2003: Rush Limbaugh is spinning the WMD stories like mad today, which must mean there's something to all the criticism. Either that, or he really hates it that the stories are getting some traction and maybe tarnishing Dub a little. Dub is such a moron that he declared two trailers "weapons of mass destruction" the other day Poland. How does the press (and everyone else) let him get away with such lies?

May 31, 2003: Saw THE ITALIAN JOB yesterday. Hokum, but high-grade hokum. Very Hollywood, very slick. Check your brain at the door. I'm not a fan of Marky Mark, and I'd rather have seen someone else in the lead role. Everyone else was fine. I need to see the original version again to compare them.

May 29, 2003: Ray Eubanks again. I would never have gone to school if it hadn't been for Ray. He lived about two blocks from me, and when I wouldn't go to first grade, my mother arranged for him to walk by the house every morning and get me. So I walked to school with him for a good long time. We were walking together the day my grandfather (my father's father) died. His house was separated from ours by one other house, so we had to pass it every day. In fact, we walked along his curved driveway nearly every time. I remember seeing his body (it was covered with a sheet, but I knew what it was) being put into the hearse. At the time, I didn't think that much of it. I knew he'd been very sick, and now he was dead. No big deal. At the age of six, what did I know about death?

May 28, 2003: I was thinking about Ray Eubanks today. I don't know how memory works for other people, but I don't seem able to remember long uninterrupted stretches of the past. I just remember vivid moments. One of those is of sitting beside Ray in church. I don't know how old we were, but it's about my first memory of being allowed to sit with someone other than my own family. One of the songs was "Since Jesus Came into my Heart," and I was amazed that Ray knew it by memory. I was impressed by his singing of the high part on "floods of joy o'er my soul like the sea billows roll," mainly because I didn't know what a sea billow was, and I doubt that Ray did, either.

Ray was my age, or a little older. He's been dead now for ten or fifteen years.

May 25, 2003: Last night we watched OUR TOWN on Showtime. I first read the play more than 40 years ago, and I thought it was great. It's probably one of the things that made me want to be a writer. I later taught the play to the students at Corsicana High School, but after that I didn't read it again. I was amazed at how well I remembered it, considering that I can hardly remember a book I read two weeks ago. I was also amazed to recall how deeply I felt the play when I was just a kid. Sometimes I don't think my understanding has deepened at all over the years. Anyway, it was great to see a performance of it and to find out that it still had the power to affect me and make me think again those old thoughts.

May 24, 2003: We saw THE MATRIX RELOADED yesterday. It occurred to me after the movie that I didn't have a clue as to what was going on during the "philosophical discussions." Obviously I'm not as deeply into this stuff as a lot of people are. I do, however, understand Neo's decision at the end to save Carrie-Ann Moss instead of the entire human race. Given a choice between the human race and Carrie-Ann Moss in a leather suit, I know I'd do the same thing.

May 22, 2003: I guess the latest move in Iraq is the change from "We're going to let them form their own democratic government with a few months," or words to that effect, to "We're going to become an occupying power, stay for a zillion years, sell their oil, and hear the lamentation of their women." But people still think George W. Bush has never told a lie.

May 19, 2003: Well, let's see. I thought that by now Iraq was supposed to be moving right along toward democracy, its people having greeted us as liberators. Instead, we're starting to talk about shooting to kill the looters. Instead of getting better, the looting's getting worse, or, as Rummy would put it, more untidy. And al-Qaeda terrorists seem to be striking again, though they're supposed to be "marginalized." Of course we're going to find them and give them a sample of American justice, according to George W. Bush. We can't find Osama bin Laden, we can't find the anthrax killer, and we can't even find Saddam. So how are we going to find these terrorists? Maybe Dub can spot them as he flies a jet over Saudi Arabia.

May 15, 2003: It's looking more and more as if there are no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Here's a quote. "In his dramatic presentation to the United Nations Security Council on Feb. 6, Secretary of State Colin Powell said the United States 'knew' that Baghdad had dispersed rocket launchers and warheads containing biological warfare agents to locations in western Iraq." Well, if they had 'em, why not use 'em? And if they had 'em, where the hell are they? We were lied to, pure and simple. And the scary thing is that Dub is going to get away with it. Nobody has the guts to call him on it.

May 12, 2003: I spent Mother's Day weekend in Mexia and Thornton. On Saturday I went to the memorial service for Louise Carr and saw several members of the Carr family whom I hadn't seen since my college days: Aletha, John Wesley, and Judy. Joe Carr was there, of course, but I see him and his wife (Judy Kennedy) every now and then in Austin. I also saw Nancy Ann Dillard for the first time since she graduated. I recognized her immediately, even though that's been nearly 50 years.

On Sunday I mowed the yard for Judy's mother. Angela and Allen drove up for lunch, and we had a nice little family gathering.

May 8, 2003: I was mowing the lawn this morning (one of my least favorite pastimes), and an old song kept running through my head. It was one my parents had on a 78 when I was a kid. "The Sidewalks of New York." It's about Sweet Rosie O'Grady and me and Mamie O'Rourke, who tripped the light fantastic on the sidewalks of New York. It occurred to me that I was probably the only person in the entire United States, if not the world, who was thinking about that particular song and that when my generation passed away, nobody was likely to think of it again. When kids these days are old guys mowing the lawn, I guess they'll be thinking about a song that goes, "I got a ho whose name be Sue, she can whip you ass and you ho too." Somehow it's not the same, but, hey, for all I know Sweet Rosie O'Grady was a ho.

Bill Crider

May 7, 2003: I turned in the grades today for my "distance learning" course. Two students completed all the work. Not a good percentage. Also worked on MACAVITY, producing four more mailing comments. Only six or seven to go.

As for the political world, let's see: Dub's budget director quit because he wants to run for governor of Indiana. Or so we were told. The next day it turns out that the guy is being investigated for insider trading. Hmmmm. We're told that Dub had to fly to the carrier to make his speech because it was too far from shore for him to reach it by helicopter. Turns out that it was right on shore. Ho-hum, just another routine lie for Ari Fleischer, who spins them out daily. And what about those WMDs?

May 6, 2003: Went to the DAV store and bought three LPs, two by Connie Francis and LAST DATE by Floyd Cramer. Went to Wal-Mart and bought some paving stones that I plan to put on the graves of Speedo and Jeoffry. A busy day for the old retired guy!

May 4, 2003. We're slowly recovering from the loss of Speedo, but we still keep looking for him. Sam, the youngest cat, doesn't seem to notice that anything's changed. Geri, the one we call "Baby," was with Speedo all the time. She looked for him every day and slept right beside him, as close to him as she could get. She seems a little puzzled and lost, but who knows what a cat's thinking.

April 30, 2003: I've been away for a while, but I'll try to do better.

Speedo was a gray tabby who showed up at our house late in March 1988. We didn't know where he came from, and we didn't realize how lucky we were that he'd chosen to live with us. He was one of the best cats ever. He wasn't “like a member of the family.” He was a member of the family. He eventually grew up to weigh around 18 pounds. There was a lot of him to love.

For the last couple of years, Speedo had arthritis in his spine and back legs, but being a cat of great courage and spunk, he was able to get around remarkably well. He never complained, and he seemed to be doing fine.

On Wednesday evening, April 23, Speedo went downhill suddenly and fast. By the next morning, he could hardly move, and I rushed him to the vet. The vet did a lot for him, and when I picked him up on Friday, he was almost his old self.

It didn't last. On Sunday, he went down hill just as suddenly, but even faster.

I had a dream about him last Wednesday night. I dreamed that he and I were both in the house where I grew up. Speedo was young and lithe and fast. So lithe and fast, in fact, that he ran straight up the wall, nearly to the ceiling. Then he turned and jumped to the narrow ledge that ran above the windows. He walked along it without putting a foot wrong, front or back. His head was high, his spine straight. When he reached the end of the ledge, he jumped to the bed, light as air, and purring as loud as only Speedo could purr.

Very early on Monday morning, Speedo left us. I hope that when he went from the light to the dark, he was having my dream. I hope that somewhere along the way he entered into it and that right now he’s running lithe and strong and fast and purring as loud as only Speedo can purr.

April 9, 2003: I really need to do better about this blogging. But I have so little to say. Now, however, I can admit that all my fears about the Iraq war seem to have been unjustified. Easy victory, no great loss of American lives. (Tough about those Iraqi civilians, though, not to mention a few journalists who got in the way.) Now I can start worrying about the economy again, but since Rush promises it will "explode" when we declare victory in Iraq, I guess I shouldn't worry about that, either. Except that we've won, and the market is down today. That can't be good.