This may be the one you’re looking for–the last of the Summer Edition. Starting Monday back to the daily grind of work; hmmmm, grind, reminds me of coffee. That might not be so bad after all. But summer is over for me, back to school and the Daily Paine. Hope you’ll continue to read, drop me a line now and then. Also, check out the website once in a while: irapaine.com.
I’ve been doing some reading on the Chisholm Trail. This July we took a couple of trips. The Trail started down around Cuero, TX and there is a fine little museum there. If you’re in that area check it out. Then we went to Waco to see the statues that were made to commemorate the Trail. Lots of beef moved up that trail; lots of steak sent to eastern markets. Lots of boys became men and lots of men lost their lives. As we went to the place where the herd crossed the Brazos in Waco I recalled the old song. Here you go, sing along with a few of the verses.
“Come along boys and listen to my tale,
I’ll tell you of my troubles on the old Chisholm trail.
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea,
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea.
It’s cloudy in the west, a-lookin’ like rain,
And my durned old slicker’s in the wagon again.
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea,
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea.
I went to the boss to draw my roll,
He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole.
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea,
Come a ti yi yippee, come a ti yi yea.”
Now ain’t that mostly the way of things? You do your best, work hard, then a storm comes along. You see it approaching, but then you realize that your slicker is in the wagon and you can’t go back to get it for you have to watch the herd as well as the coming storm. That’s the way it happens. Or you think you might be getting a bonus on your pay, and you find out that you actually owe the company. After all you’ve been riding the company horse and eating company food. Then on top of that you now are required to take out insurance and must pay for that. If you don’t then there is a fine. Yep dollars in the hole.
I’ve been debating as to whether to call this Echoes From the Campfire, but then I’m thinking perhaps the campfire is going out. It doesn’t seem to burn as bright as it once did. Where are those who rode living the code? Where are those who stand up against tyranny and immoral sanctions? Is the campfire going out? It is all done, so they say, in the name of progress, enlightened society, and political correctness. Here again it reminds me of an old song probably written by Eugene Manlove Rhodes
“Through the progress of our country our occupation’s gone,
So we put our ideas into words and our words into a song.
‘Tween the closin’ of the trail and the fencin’ of the range,
We let it slip away and wonder who’s to blame.
When I think about them good old days my eyes with tears do fill,
I can think of the tin can by the fire and the coyote on the hill.
I think of riding night guard while the stars were shining bright,
But now instead the wire fence guards the herd tonight.
It’s sad to see them good old days replaced with greed and doubt,
The cowboy left the country, the campfire has gone out.”
So what do we do with progress, what do we do with change? For the most part we can move with it and not worry. However, when it comes to the standard of God’s Word being changed, attacked, and scorned it is time to stir up the coals of that campfire. Perhaps this is where there needs to come some introspection. Has your campfire gone out?