Willie Has Two Birthdays

Happy 85th birthday, Willie! I had always thought that my grandfather and Willie Nelson shared the same birthday, April 30, until someone told me that Willie was born on April 29. 

"How could I have been mistaken for so many years?" I thought to myself. Well, it turns out that Willie has two birthdays, and he explains why that is so in the video below.  

A Challenge in London

A few years ago, while I was briefly in London, I met my friend David Owen-Bell for lunch. I first met David, who was a Senior Lecturer of Theatre Arts at Middlesex University of London, when he was serving as a Guest Director at Southwestern University in Georgetown, Texas, in the early nineties and my roommate, the actor Jonathan Brent, was playing the lead in Shakespeare's Pericles.

Over lunch, I told David about a play I had just written about three brothers. He then challenged me to write a play with several female characters. When I got back to the  United States, I answered the challenge, and I wrote a play about two sisters and their sanctimonious mother, though it never left the drawer. 

David understood that I needed to expand my range, and I am happy that he gave me that challenge. When I think about it, he was the first person who tried to get me to write strong female characters. Today, many of my stories include female protagonists, and I feel that some of the strongest stories in Waylon County have female protagonists. For that, I now realize, I owe a word of thanks to David Owen-Bell for providing that challenge. The next time we meet, lunch is definitely on me.

         

A Little Guitsteel

Most Fridays after work I listen to something festive for the ride home. A lot of the time that happens to be the Grateful Dead, though I have been known to play the New Riders of the Purple Sage, the Flying Burrito Brothers, or Junior Brown.

This evening I am in the mood for the man with the guitsteel, Mr. Junior Brown. I've been listening to him since the mid-nineties, and he always makes me smile. Here is Junior Brown live at the Continental Club in Austin, Texas, which is, I reckon, the last place I saw the guitsteel guru play.

Talkin' Texican: All Get-Out

I have heard and even employed the term "all get-out" my entire life, but I have never typed the words until just now. In case you were wondering, "all get-out" means "the upmost conceivable degree," or at least that's how our friends at Merriam-Webster define it. 

Here are some examples of how "all get-out" is used:

"I was cleaning my pistol right after my dadburn Concealed Handgun License class and accidentally shot off my kneecap. And I'll tell you what. That hurt like all get-out."  

"That dadgum Satchell Paige is so fast, he can turn out the light and be in bed before it gets dark. That ol' boy is faster than all get-out."

And here's ol' Doug Sahm singing a song that is cooler than all get-out.

Willie Lane and Talent Records

As anyone who reads this blog with any frequency knows, I love digging deep and learning about largely unknown musicians and writers from Texas. This evening I am writing about Willie Lane, a country bluesman about whom very little has been written.

According to txbluesproject.com, Willie Lane was born in Edna, Texas in 1897 and served in World War I. In April of 1934, while serving time in Huntsville, it is believed that he recorded for the Library of Congress under the name "Little Brother." Between 1934 and 1949 he recorded six sides for Dallas' Talent Records, which, according to the Dallas Observer, also produced Professor Longhair and Hoyle Nix and His West Texas Cowboys. 

Willie "Little Brother" Lane is remembered for "Too Many Women Blues," "Howling Wolfe Blues," "Prowlin' Ground Hog," and "Black Cat Rag." He was known to be in Fort Worth as early as 1929, according to Stephen Calt's liner notes for Thomas Shaw's Blind Lemon's Buddy album, and he died in Fort Worth in 1976.

Here is Willie Lane's "Too Many Women Blues."

The Eschatological Texarkanan

Texarkana native David Wallace Crowder is a Christian musician and the co-author of a book called Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven, but Nobody Wants to Die (The Eschatology of Bluegrass). I have not read the book, but the title is sensational. In my own writing, I love to have my characters address issues such as "ontology" (the philosophical study of the nature of being) and "eschatology" (the theological study of the final events of the world or humankind) in the vernacular, so this title is right up my alley. 

Here is "All My Hope" by Crowder. I'm including this song in honor of my good ol' Uncle Les because he is who introduced me to this musician and writer.   

An Unforgettable Voice

Roy Orbison was born on this day in 1936 in Vernon, Texas. Orbison, who was known for songs such as "Crying," "Oh, Pretty Woman," and "Only the Lonely," had one of the most amazing voices ever heard on a rock and roll stage. I have thought about it for years, and I think the best way I can describe it is that he had one of those mournful West Texas voices that seem to be influenced by wind and desolation. I can only imagine what it must have been like to hear him on AM radio while driving across the plains in the early 1960s.


Here is Roy Orbison playing "Crying" in 1988, the year that he died. Watch for Bruce Springsteen, k.d. lang, and Elvis Costello.

Green Frogs and Dairy Queens

This afternoon my dear ol' dad and I rode along Jacksboro Highway until we reached the fine town of Jacksboro. The plan was to eat a late lunch at the Green Frog Restaurant and then visit Fort Richardson. Although we had plenty of time to visit the fort, we arrived too late to eat at the Green Frog, which we wanted to patronize because of the "Green Frog Cafe" reference in Guy Clark's  "Desperadoes Waiting for a Train," but, like I said, we were a tad too tardy.

At the screening of the Jerry Jeff Walker documentary, "OK Buckaroos," at the Dallas Film Festival a few years ago, someone asked Jerry Jeff about the location of the Green Frog Cafe. So Jerry Jeff called Guy Clark and put him on speaker phone. Clark said that there were several Green Frog Cafes out there, which was one of the reasons he chose the name for the place in the song. I do not know if the Green Frog was already in Jacksboro when the song was written, but one reviewer on Trip Advisor states that the restaurant "has been there since dirt was invented." And that, my friends, must have been a long time ago. So that fine establishment in Jacksboro must surely be one of the Green Frog Cafes Guy Clark was referencing. We will indeed return to that fine Jack County institution, and I will share my full report.

Anyway, we ate at the friendly neighborhood Dairy Queen. Nice folks. Hot fries. Good cheeseburgers.


And here is a Dairy Queen commercial that I found amusing.

Main Street Memory: Buddy Guy in Fort Worth

Fort Worth's Main Street Arts Festival is happening as we speak. The event, which is the largest of its kind in all of the Southwest, now spans 27 blocks. That is a lot of art, music, and culinary delight in one place. According to fortworth.com, the festival attracts "tens of thousands" of patrons, and a 2014 news article cited 400,000 as the projected attendance that year. That is a lot of folks.

In the mid-1990s, back when I still drove a lime-green Volkswagen microbus, the Main Street Arts Festival had not yet become the mega-festival it is today. In what must have been 1994 or 1995, my friends and I hopped out of the van, walked a couple of blocks to Main Street, and lollipopped around enjoying the various booths until Buddy Guy was scheduled to play. At that point, we casually sauntered right up to the stage, which was just in front of the Chisholm Trail mural. Looking back, the whole thing was really pretty mellow. It was so mellow, in fact, that Buddy Guy was playing whatever the people in the audience requested; and I remember him at one point searing his way through "The Sky is Crying."     

Here is a little Buddy Guy for you. Watch for native Texan Terry Wilson on bass.

King of the Road in Nottingham

Fort Worth's own Roger Miller has largely been remembered for the song "King of the Road." The snapping, the lyrics, the delivery, and, of course, Miller's voice make it a catchy, memorable song. However, it is perhaps less well-known that Miller composed some songs for Disney's Robin Hood. When I was a little boy, I remember my mother taking me to see that animated feature, and I really enjoyed it. I think I liked it as much as I currently like the song that begins "Trailer for sale or rent, rooms to let, fifty cents."  

Here is a little Robin Hood clip with Roger Miller narrating and singing.

The Father of Nachos: A Texan

While, indubitably, Ignacio "Nacho" Anaya of Piedras Negras was the inventor of the nacho, the "Father of Nachos" was a Texan by the name of Frank Liberto. The "stadium nacho," as it is now called, was Frank Liberto's brainchild. He mixed cheese sauce, jalapeno juice, and water together and figured out how to squirt it out of a dispenser.

Stadium nachos made their big debut at Arlington Stadium, the home of the Texas Rangers, in 1976. Considering the Rangers' record of 76 wins and 86 losses that year, finishing 14 games out of first place, stadium nachos were clearly the highlight of the season. In the coming years, stadium nachos swept the nation. And that's "nacho" ordinary story.

Here is an article in Smithsonian Magazine about nachos.

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/the-history-of-baseball-stadium-nachos-53046650/

Here is a short news piece about the "Father of Nachos," San Antonio's Frank Liberto.

  

Justin, Texas: 19th Century Equivalent to the Hippie Colony

Justin, Texas today does not look like an experiment in Utopian communalism, but in 1848 it actually was. A French socialist by the name of Etienne Cabet, who wrote a novel called Voyage en Icarie, organized the experiment. The folks who joined the colony, who were called Icarians, lived near Denton Creek, which, if I may chase a rabbit, is where I used to go to catch sand bass when I was but a lad. Anyway, The Icarian experiment did not work out, and the colonists, who all were French, headed back to the port city of New Orleans after about a year.

This is, of course, the kind of story I love. You might even think that I made the whole thing up, but I did not. Yes, this nineteenth century version of the hippie colony really did exist in North Texas, even if it was not here long. To learn more about this social experiment, please click the link below:

https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/uei01

And here are the groovy sounds of Austin's 13th Floor Elevators, circa 1967.

   

Flaco and Buck

I have been planning on writing a blog post about San Antonio native Flaco Jimenez for quite a while. Flaco, a Tejano accordion legend, has played with everyone from Bob Dylan to Willie Nelson to the Rolling Stones. The only time I ever saw Flaco Jimenez was at Farm Aid in 1992, when he was punching the buttons with the Texas Tornados. I remember el supergroup playing "Hey Baby, Que Paso," a song I have always loved. But then, how could you not dig a song with lyrics like "Hey Baby, que paso / I thought I was your only vato"?

I was also planning on writing about Buck Owens of Sherman, Texas. Although he is known for the Bakersfield sound, Buck Owens was actually a Texas boy whose family moved West when the Dust Bowl hit. Buck's most well known song is "Act Naturally," which was subsequently recorded by the Beatles. In 1988, Ringo Starr rerecorded the song with Buck.

So tonight we've got a two-for-one special. Here is Flaco Jimenez and Buck Owens playing the Beatles' "Love Me Do."

My Buddy Cody: A "Fictional" Character

This evening I talked to my ol' buddy Cody Delmere on the telephone. I've known Cody since the third grade, and we played baseball together for years. In high school, we used to ride around in his old green and primer pickup truck singing songs at the top of our voices because we were the only musical entertainment available in his truck. And the problem was not radio reception. The problem was that every time he bought a new stereo, somebody would steal it. So we drove around town singing George Strait, George Jones, and AC/DC. Although there was nothing but a hole in the dashboard, the music played on.

My wife has never met Cody, but I think my description of him is fairly accurate. I told her, "Imagine Gus McCrae as a fireman." Gus McCrae, of course, is a famous character from Lonesome Dove, and Cody Delmere is, well, a very colorful fireman. In fact, somebody used him as a character in a novel.

"Well, Cody, how will I know which character is you?" I asked.

"You'll know it because the character is a fireman named Cody Delmere, and you can find him on Page 62," Cody replied.   

So I bought the book.


Here is one of the songs we used to sing in Cody's truck all of those years ago.

Baba Jaja Turns 80

My mother-in-law, who lives in the Czech Republic, turns eighty today. Affectionately known as "Baba Jaja," my mother-in-law is one of the happiest people you will ever meet. She was a child during the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia, and she lived through four decades of communism, yet she is like a ray of sunshine. She is a living testament to the strength and resilience of the human spirit.

A few years ago, Baba Jaja came to Texas for Martina's college graduation, and she was ecstatic from the moment we handed her a bouquet of yellow roses at the airport. While in Texas, she danced at the White Elephant, shot pistols with my dad out in Parker County, ate barbeque at various local establishments, and had a grand ol' time during the entirety of her stay. On her last night in Texas, we took her to see Gary P. Nunn play in Justin. After the show, she even got to meet Gary P., who was extremely kind and even talked to her in German.

These days Texas comes to Baba Jaja in little yellow envelopes. She loves the pecans we send ("What pecans?" she sometimes says when Martina asks about them), and she also loves reusable grocery bags from HEB. Martina mails HEB bags with Texas designs to her fairly regularly, and Baba Jaja has given so many away that there must be at least a dozen people in her little town walking down the street carrying groceries in reusable bags from Texas.

Vsechno nejlepsi, Babo Jajo! Happy birthday, Baba Jaja!

While in Texas, Baba Jaja really enjoyed seeing "that nice young man" Hayes Carll play at Billy Bob's and took his album, "Trouble in Mind," back home with her to the Czech Republic. Here is a song from that album.

El Paso: Himalayan Architecture

This afternoon, while thumbing through the Southwestern Historical Quarterly (April 2018), I came across a photograph of Bhutanese-style buildings on the campus of what is now the University of Texas at El Paso. The photo was taken around 1935, when the school was still known as the State School of Mines and Metallurgy.

I immediately started researching the topic and learned that the buildings were designed in the "dzong" style, the architectural tradition of the Bhutanese monasteries of the Himalayas. I also learned that UTEP and the Kingdom of Bhutan have a special relationship and that the Bhutanese prince actually visited El Paso a few years ago.

When Martina and I lived in Thailand, we wanted to visit Bhutan, but the cost of a visa was very much out of our price range at the time, so we never made it there. Well, nowadays a little piece of Bhutan is not so far out of reach. The next time we're out in West Texas, we'll have to head over to the UTEP campus to see the "dzong" architecture and visit the Chenrezig Himalayan Cultural Center of El Paso.

Here is a short video about the Bhutanese architecture in El Paso. Watch for the Bhutanese-style parking garage, which is the only one of its kind in the world.

To My Wife: An Attempt at Being Demonstrative Online

My wife and I are not demonstrative online. We do not post things like "I love you, sugar-baby-honey-bun" or send one another e-cards that open to animated butterflies flitting about the screen. That's just not how we roll.

Besides that, Martina does not like to be the center of attention. She never even wants to have a birthday party because she doesn't like events that focus around her. And although she will probably ask me to remove this post, I must say that she has been fundamental to any success I have had over the last few years.

It was actually Martina, a native of Europe, who helped me realize that I needed to focus on writing about Texas. My work had always had Texans in it, but I had never focused on the state itself. Martina also allows me the space to write and doesn't get mad when I am up until three or four in the morning finishing a short story. And heck, she even took the cover photo for Waylon County, as well as the headshot on the back. So, yes, behind this particular redneck with a pen, there is indeed a great woman.

In lieu of a love song like "Islands in the Stream" or "You're the Inspiration," I would like to dedicate "I'm My Own Grandpa" to Martina. This little ditty is her favorite song from "Rainbow Connection," which happens to be her favorite Willie Nelson album. 

 

A Pig on a Leash and the New Riders of the Purple Sage

This evening I went to visit my dear ol' dad. About half of the drive is still somewhat country, which is nice considering the rate of development around us. Well, you might be wondering why I would say "somewhat country." I say it because last week when I went to visit my dad, I saw a lady walking a pig on a leash, and I still haven't decided if a pig on a leash would be considered characteristic of a rural or urban environment. So "somewhat country" it is.

On the drive this evening (which yielded no swine sightings), I was listening to the New Riders of the Purple Sage, a long-haired country band featuring Jerry Garcia on steel guitar. The New Riders used to play at the Armadillo World Headquarters in Austin back in the day, and I can only imagine how groovy that scene must have been in the early seventies. Here is a tune I heard while cruising down Roller Coaster Hill.

   

Waylon County and the Windmill

After spending twenty-eight years in relentless, unwavering pursuit of my dream, that dream finally came true last fall. My first full-length work of fiction reached publication. To an outside observer, all of those seemingly fruitless years spent scrawling into notepads and hunched over laptops must have seemed quixotic. I must have seemed like a man tilting at windmills. But my resolve never flagged.

As you have likely surmised, the windmill on the cover of Waylon County: Texas Stories is not there by accident. The windmill represents a dream that I chased for almost three decades, and I dedicate that windmill to all of the people who believed in me. I thank them wholeheartedly for the love and encouragement that kept me riding headlong with quill in hand toward that elusive dream.

  

https://www.amazon.com/Waylon-County-Stories-Heath-Dollar/dp/0998066141

        

Lady Bird and the Bluebonnets

This time of year folks like to pull off of the interstate and smile for a picture or two among the bluebonnets. You might even say that grinning among the lupines has become a tradition here in the Lone Star State. Yet this Texas tradition is not old as far as traditions go. In fact, its origins only date back to the Highway Beautification Act of 1965, which was signed by President Lyndon B. Johnson.

The Highway Beautification Act was actually Lady Bird Johnson's darling. Lady Bird wanted to lower the number of billboards along the nation's highways, to keep junkyards out of sight, and to see wildflowers along the interstate. In Texas, she encouraged the planting of bluebonnets and other native wildflowers, and she even gave out highway beautification awards. As a tribute to her leadership and vision, the Lady Bird Johnson Royal Blue bluebonnet was named in her honor. So the next time you and yours are grinning among the bluebonnets, be sure to give a cosmic nod of thanks to the First Lady of Wildflowers.

Here is a link to more information about the Lady Bird Johnson Royal Blue:

https://www.klru.org/ctg/resource/bluebonnet/ 

I snapped this bluebonnet picture from the window of my car a couple of weeks ago.

  And here is Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys performing "Blue Bonnet Lane."

Jane Goodall in Texas

This evening we heard renowned primatologist Jane Goodall speak at the University of North Texas in Denton. Dr. Goodall shared a message of hope and urged the audience to join the conservation movement. When asked what each person could do personally in the name of environmentalism, she said that each person could give up the pleasures that we know are not good for the environment. After saying that, she acknowledged that Texans tend to enjoy steak, and she said that if each person ate just a little less, it would have a positive impact on the environment. This statement echoes the words she wrote in With Love (1999): "Every individual matters. Every individual has a role to play. Every individual makes a difference." This belief, I imagine, is part of the reason she has traveled the world speaking to audiences three hundred days a year for more than thirty years. I'm glad she decided to stop here in North Texas this go-round.

Here are a couple of pictures that Martina took at the lecture.

Padre! Fifty Years of Woohoo!

The headline of this blog post is nothing more than click bait. You probably thought that I would be writing about the bacchanalian indiscretions of scantily-clad undergraduates enjoying their vernal respite on the beaches of South Texas. But that is not at all what I am writing about today. I am writing about nature.   

On this day in 1968, Lady Bird Johnson dedicated the Padre Island National Seashore. According to the National Park Service, the Padre Island National Seashore is "the longest stretch of undeveloped barrier island in the world." I think it is also interesting to note that this federally-protected seashore spans three counties and hosts Kemp's ridley sea turtles as well 380 bird species. So in honor of the fiftieth anniversary of the park's dedication, I now will shout, "Hurray for Padre! Fifty years! Woohoo!"

And here is Gary P. Nunn singing, "My Kind of Day on Padre."

The Beatles and Texas

The Fab Four's influence on popular music is enormous, but who influenced the Beatles? Well, Lubbock's own Buddy Holly for one. The name "Beatles" is a play on Buddy Holly and the Crickets, though the boys from Liverpool decided to spell "beetles" with an "a" so that it would have a double meaning. 

Besides Buddy Holly, Fort Worth's Delbert McClinton also influenced the Fab Four. In fact, McClinton gave John Lennon tips on how to play harmonica before Lennon was famous; and though there are myths and legends surrounding the story, there is little dispute regarding McClinton's influence on the band.   

Here is an interview with the Beatles in Dallas in 1964.

Here is Steve Earle covering the Beatles' "I'm Looking Through You," which was originally released on Rubber Soul. 

Local Boys Make a Movie

Yesterday's post about a gentleman from my neck of the woods finding success got me thinking about some ol' buddies from high school. Sean Kinney, who I once wrote about in the Dallas Morning News, directed a movie that was released recently. The film is named Call for Fire, and it is a modern-day adaptation of the story of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern from Shakespeare's Hamlet. Kinney co-wrote the film, which is set in Afghanistan, with air force veteran and fellow classmate Steve Barrons; and the movie's cast and crew was largely comprised of wounded Special Operations veterans. Congratulations to Sean, Steve, and all of the "Call for Fire" cast and crew on their accomplishment.

Here is the trailer for the film.

And here is the DMN piece about Sean Kinney from 2009.

https://www.dallasnews.com/opinion/commentary/2009/12/11/20091210-Heath-Dollar-Kids-need-real-5379) 

A Fellow Haltomite

My ol' buddy Shane stopped by to shoot the bull and pick a little guitar this evening. After sharing the latest, we played a few tunes, including one we co-wrote about our grandfathers, who worked together at the packing house in the Fort Worth Stockyards. I've always liked the song, though we've never played it anywhere bigger than my back porch.

That song got us thinking about Fort Worth music, and we got to talking about Cody Jinks, who, though he is a few years younger than us, also graduated from Haltom High School. Shane talked about seeing him play in Justin as well as in the Stockyards. He greatly enjoyed both shows. I have planned to go see him ever since my neighbor, who know Jinks, heard Shane and me playing on the porch. He said that we would like Jinks' music. Well, my neighbor was right. And apparently we aren't the only ones that enjoy Cody Jinks' music. To illustrate that point, here is "I'm Not the Devil," which has received more than 5.5 million hits on youtube.

   

Okra: Not From Around Here

This evening Martina made a North African okra dish. Although many of us rightly associate okra with the American South, the food is actually of African origin and was brought to North America by African slaves. According to Merriam-Webster, the term "okra" comes from Africa and is related to the Ibo word okuru. The word "gumbo," which also means "okra," comes from a Bantu dialect. In Africa, okra is used to thicken soups, and somehow the word "gumbo" became the name of the Creole dish. Well, any way you slice it, I am a fan of okra in all of its different regional styles, be it North African, Cajun, or Southern. And I am always happy to raise my flag and shout, "Hurray! Hurray for okra!"

For more information, you can visit:

http://www.foodreference.com/html/artokra.html

Here's ol' King George singing about "Texas Cookin'." Okra, of course, gets a name check.

An Encounter with the Days of Yore

Martina and I stopped by the Weatherford Farmers Market last Saturday, where we saw an incredible sight. No, it wasn't the squash or the onions or even the zucchini (though all of them did look great). It was the old Vee Dub van in the parking lot. While I stood there gawking like a rube, my mind quickly became flooded with memories of the 1977 Volkswagen Westphalia I used to have. That van could sleep four and even had a sink. And I drove that groovy ol' lime green bus from Fort Worth to Yellowstone and beyond.

One time it broke down at the gate of the Custer Battlefield. Another time it broke down near Mount Rushmore. Then there was the time when two tires blew within miles of one another in the desert outside of Moab, and, of course, there was also the time I almost left it in the Wall Drug parking lot in South Dakota. But still I loved that old van. We traveled many a mile together.

Here's a picture Martina took of the van we saw in Weatherford.

A Roadside Attraction

On Friday my dear ol' dad and I took a mini road trip out west to see the bluebonnets and to visit the Natty Flat Smokehouse, a place he used to frequent on his motorcycle. Natty Flat, which is located on US 281 in Lipan, Texas (pop. 442), is home to the Guinness Book of World Records certified World's Largest Cedar Rocker, which would make King Kong, were he to sit in it, look like Goldilocks in Daddy Bear's chair. After contemplating the enormity of the surprisingly large cedar rocking chair, we decided to grab a bite to eat.

I dined upon pork ribs, pinto beans, and potato salad backed by pickled green tomatoes and jalapenos while Hank Williams was playing on the sound system, so all was good in the universe. Adding to the down-home cosmic goodness of the experience was the fact that every single person we met was friendly and pleasant, and, well, you just can't beat a place that sells locally produced chowchow, pickled okra, and other such provisions. So, needless to say, I was grinning like a possum.

I am also pleased to tell you that Waylon County: Texas Stories is now available in the greater Natty Flat metropolitan area. Yes, Waylon County can now be purchased at the S & K Trading Post there in Lipan. And while I certainly hope that local folks will decide to dip into the book, I also like the fact that US 281 runs a total of 1,872 miles from the Canadian border to Brownsville, and that, according to Krickett, the trading post's owner, many travelers from the Great White North actually stop at her place looking for Texas literary fare. I, of course, would love to see Waylon County hitch a ride to Brownsville or even Moosejaw, Saskatchewan, so I was glad to hear what Krickett had to say. Well, if you need a little respite from your normal routine, head out to Lipan for lunch and a smile.

Here is the Texas-sized cedar rocker. To get a sense of scale, look at the motorcycle parked nearby.

There are plenty of copies of Waylon County: Texas Stories on the book rack at the S & K Trading Post in Lipan. Be sure to tip your hat and say howdy to Krickett, the proprietor, when you're there.   

Here is Waylon County at the S & K Trading Post. Martina took the photo on Saturday.