The early morning breeze was cool, as sunlight reflected in sprinkles from lofty clouds. High over Eagle Mountain, hawks roamed skyward, wings set as they drifted lazily on pocket-filled air. Crows barked from atop telephone poles and tall, stately trees, while mockingbirds filled the passing calm with inventive sounds.
It was Wednesday, the day before Valentine’s Day, and I chose not to teach that day, but rather attend a computer workshop in Oak Cliff. Which meant, no kids, no lunch duty, no tutoring, no after-school, and no evening American History classes.
What a great day!
The computer class was filled with eager professionals, being taught by competent, technically oriented instructors that were helping us to understand how the computer could be successfully used to better educate our students.
Wednesday is also the day the Oak Cliff Lions Club meets, and I got to attend. When the Lions Club meets, I get to hug all the ladies and consume two pieces of dessert from the buffet. Lions are engaging and just plain friendly.
At each meeting I get to laugh at the antics of Bill Melton, listen to the impartial political rhetoric of Dr. Bill Lawhorn and candid opinions of Mike Lott, witness the lightning speed of Corky Harris, and bask in the beautiful smile of Lion Kathy Frazier.
There were no fights during the meeting, at least that I could observe. I got to sit the entire meal, and talk to adults without being interrupted, or my character assaulted, being accused of polygamy, or having to justify the color of my undershirts. No one yelled at me, hit me, or even questioned my gender or religious affiliation.
We just talked and laughed, shared stories of our kids and grandchildren, pie recipes, sports, and neighborly gossip. The only sad part of the meeting is having to leave. Sometimes I linger after most folks have left in order to take one last sip of nourishment from the dipper of friendship. Their memories and voices are my sustaining ointment and armor gathered for protection against my sometime educational failures with my students.
The next day was Valentine’s Day. The left over happy drippings of today will extend into the romantic interludes of tomorrow.
Preparation for this grand day was completed. I had purchased my sweetheart a brand new tackle box filled with lures from the famous Fred Winnie Lure Company of Davenport, Iowa. Naturally, there was a companion minnow bucket in matching pastel colors. But my thoughts and remembrances didn’t stop there. I had also purchased a large candy bar from one of those street corner venders that seem to be everywhere. For a final touch, I bought a bouquet of slightly old, but brightly colored flowers from the parlor of Died and Sons Funeral Home.
Oh yes, what a grand day it will be. These wonderful treasures, along with the following poem, went to my sweetheart. I can hardly wait for my romantic reward.
Sweetheart, I know you think that I’m not particularly bright, and a little on the side of cheap.
That I occasionally have less than a dime in my pocket, and rarely hold a job for more than a week.
But in my heart, you are very special to me, and I ask you to be patient you see.
Because just as soon as my back gets well and my workman’s comp is gone,
I promise to fine another slick spot and take you sliding along.
I pledge to get my car parts out of your garage, and take a bath ever week or so
And bring you flowers from an unknown plot where the owner is already gone.
Just remember how much I love you and I will pay back the loan,
because without you, there is no rhyme or reason for song.

Durhl Caussey is a syndicated columnist who writes for publications across America. He can be reached at this newspaper or at dcaussey@sbcglobal.net, or fax # 972-709-6989.