Goodnight

The snow has melted and Amarillo recorded a record high of 78 degrees, so Bill, Ron & I set out for an afternoon cruise out to Armstrong County where we paid tribute to the real king of the cowboys, Charles Goodnight. At Charlie Goodnight's grave, it's apparently a local custom to leave a bandana. Some leave other trinkets, and even coins. I knew about the bandana thing though, so I made sure we all three travelled with one to leave at the site. While there, we enjoyed a saddlebag picnic of homemade pecan pralines and cookies thoughtfully provided by Jenny Q.

Some people might consider it strange to make a cemetery a destination. When you think about it though, it's the ultimate destination for all of us, so maybe it's a sneak peak into the future. Ron mentioned that it's odd how it can be comforting and pleasant to contemplate a graveyard. He's right, it is a strange sensation. I think it's like how listening to a sad song can often make you feel good.*

We stopped for coffee at the Dairy Queen in Claude and still made it home before the cold and dark set in. It was a great ride.














*That reminds me of a sad song. Souvenirs, by Steve Goodman:
"...I hate graveyards and old pawn shops,
For they always bring me tears.
I can't forgive the way they robbed me of my childhood souvenirs."