“Grapes of Wrath” Want And Worry and How I Was In Such A Hurry To Get My Ass Kicked Over It (Reading That Book) Or “Brother Can You Spare a Dime?”

Do Re Mi- Woody Guthrie:

Vid cred: Anne Miller


Trailer Trash

(Just Kidding)

I am still trying to get through Ken Burns’ documentary,

“The Dust Bowl”

But it is tearing my soul.

My people lived it.

When I was a senior in Honey Grove High School, we were tasked with reading Steinbeck, ‘Grapes of Wrath.’

I remember sharing a copy of my father’s with a classmate named Cindy…. I had a crush on her, but she didn’t really like me. She was very tall, short – cropped reddish blond hair. Feisty. Never hesitant to tell someone who had pissed her off to “Fuck off.” Stunning, but not real pretty… Many years later she and I…. Nope. I am not gonna go there….I still value my life.

Never mind.

However, we shared my copy of the book and would sit too close together, physically touching in fact, reading the same pages at the same time.

Her boyfriend, who would eventually become her husband, was walking down the hall one day and saw us with our heads bowed together, reading the Goddamn book aloud to each other…. together….

He was not pleased by that sight.

She later told me she caught hell from him over that.

And then she laughed.

She was a strong, head-strong young woman.

I did love her.

But, shit!
I loved every strong, headstrong woman I ever met.

I was not that strong and I was afraid.

Afraid her boyfriend was gonna kick my ass over that.

So I found/bought/borrowed/stole a second copy and gave it to her, so that we didn’t have to sit too close in the classroom anymore.

This was a cowardly, stupid move on my part….

I eventually got braver and grew a pair….


Getting off track.


I cannot continue this right now.

Will try to return to it at some point,

And endeavor to say all the things and feelings and thoughts I want to say.

(But Y’all already know I am lying.)



History Brief: Daily Life in the 1930s

Cred: Reading Through History

Al Jolson – Brother can you spare a Dime

Cred for Vid: isthisnametook


Sad footnote:

Cindy’s (Cindi?—never could spell her name right-which always pissed her off)

Cindi’s little brother informed me several years ago that she had died.

I cried.

I cried real, sincere tears

For her.

But mostly for me and another great, lost loved friend.

Lost forever to me.

She was crazy-wild and free and scared me, but I always wanted to sit next to her and read Steinbeck together— just one more time.

I still think of her often.

I miss you Cindy/Cindi

I will by dying soon too.

Perhaps I will join you again and we can read Steinbeck again…. together.


You down with that Girl?

Girl that never was my Girl. But you live still in my heart. And you always will every time I read a good book…. sadly I have no one to read with anymore. That was a stolen moment we had.

We shared a good book experience.


In For Real Time.


Wondering who, if anyone, will cry for me Argentina.

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