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When I was a little boy, I used to have a good house. It had happy red bricks, and a shiny white roof, and a big, big pecan tree in the back of it. It had trailers beside it and good stuff in the cabinets and an Earth Stove you could roast marshmallows in.
It had blackberries in the spring, peaches in the summer, persimmons in the fall and snow in the winter. It had a greenhouse, a garden and a John Deere tractor. It was perfect.
But, also when I was a little boy, it got blown to smithereens, it did. That's the way I used to talk, so that's the way I remember it. It got all tore up, it did. Yes.
It got torn apart by a tornado. Everything was gone. They found some of our things in the rubble, and for a while, we lived with family, until we got a new house on good land, with a river and a garden... it was paradise.
But we never forgot the old house.
My granddaddy threw away a key to the front door of it, once, and I saved it. He let me have it. I've kept it ever since; sometimes I lose it, but I always find it again.
It's my good luck charm.
I don't know if it does anything, I've never left it to my charm to do anything, really. It's safer to do it yourself, you know? Not trust something like luck. But I keep it anyway, because it's a memory, and a habit. It hung on my dog tags for a while. It hung on my rearview, and in the first apartment I bought with my wife, on the key rack, gathering dust. It went with me on a second deployment, and it got lost when we moved to Anaheim, and then we found it again on a family vacation to Branson. Somehow it's just always there, never at the front of my mind. But it's nice to have anyway.
When I first got the thing, I was a little kid, about four years old. I remember hearing it said that it would be okay for me to have the key, the door had blown away. Sometimes, I have nightmares about that door to nowhere. But when I do, and something happens, usually it turns out okay. Maybe that's the magic? It seems kinda hokey to me.
My kids have good luck charms. Sandra has her mama's paints from when she was in art school. Teddy has a shell he found by the river in Texas. My wife, she has one too-- her wedding ring. She says it doesn't mean anything to her, but she never takes it off. I don't guess they do much but make us feel good.
But sometimes when there's a big bad thing on the horizon-- when that door opens to nowhere-- it's nice to have something to hold onto. So you don't get blown to smithereens.
When I was a little boy, I used to have a good house. It had happy red bricks, and a shiny white roof, and a big, big pecan tree in the back of it. It had trailers beside it and good stuff in the cabinets and an Earth Stove you could roast marshmallows in.
It had blackberries in the spring, peaches in the summer, persimmons in the fall and snow in the winter. It had a greenhouse, a garden and a John Deere tractor. It was perfect.
But, also when I was a little boy, it got blown to smithereens, it did. That's the way I used to talk, so that's the way I remember it. It got all tore up, it did. Yes.
It got torn apart by a tornado. Everything was gone. They found some of our things in the rubble, and for a while, we lived with family, until we got a new house on good land, with a river and a garden... it was paradise.
But we never forgot the old house.
My granddaddy threw away a key to the front door of it, once, and I saved it. He let me have it. I've kept it ever since; sometimes I lose it, but I always find it again.
It's my good luck charm.
I don't know if it does anything, I've never left it to my charm to do anything, really. It's safer to do it yourself, you know? Not trust something like luck. But I keep it anyway, because it's a memory, and a habit. It hung on my dog tags for a while. It hung on my rearview, and in the first apartment I bought with my wife, on the key rack, gathering dust. It went with me on a second deployment, and it got lost when we moved to Anaheim, and then we found it again on a family vacation to Branson. Somehow it's just always there, never at the front of my mind. But it's nice to have anyway.
When I first got the thing, I was a little kid, about four years old. I remember hearing it said that it would be okay for me to have the key, the door had blown away. Sometimes, I have nightmares about that door to nowhere. But when I do, and something happens, usually it turns out okay. Maybe that's the magic? It seems kinda hokey to me.
My kids have good luck charms. Sandra has her mama's paints from when she was in art school. Teddy has a shell he found by the river in Texas. My wife, she has one too-- her wedding ring. She says it doesn't mean anything to her, but she never takes it off. I don't guess they do much but make us feel good.
But sometimes when there's a big bad thing on the horizon-- when that door opens to nowhere-- it's nice to have something to hold onto. So you don't get blown to smithereens.
