I am camping on the beach, on the Gulf Coast, just to the north of Corpus Christi,in a hot and humid wind. It is always, always windy here, blowing off the water. If the wind ever stopped the mosquitoes would come out of the bushes and kill us all. As it is, they have mosquitoes here that can fly upwind in a strong breeze and still get you.
The good part is the space. This is the good part all over Texas, there is just so much fucking room.
I came into town, to this Internet cafe, to get out of the wind, and to check my email. I didn't get any good email. I hardly ever do. It's rarely as good as the stuff I send out, but I still like to hear from people.
Barbara Cram called from Seattle. We talked for almost an hour. She told me that a long time ago, in the 1950s, she lived in Odessa, in far west Texas, in the middle of nowhere.
I told her a lot about my current circumstances, living in this small town, down here, deep in the heart of Texas, all the good parts and bad parts, and she appreciated my situation -- what I was saying.
I have come up with a plan to visit the Skagit Valley in late May, in conjunction with the poetry festival -- back to where people know me. This will provide some nice relief. Puget Sound Yin to Texas Yang.
But Texas --- the great thing about Texas is the writing. There is so much character in the land and in the people. This is the best thing.
All pride and prejudice aside, I am the best writer ever to work at this newspaper. I am the best writer ever to work or live in Wilson County, and I am one of the ten best writers currently working Texas. That's is God's truth and no brag.