oh man! It's
. . .
. . ."
yourselves apart into
6:31Truly our desert is a many-splendored place. At times itchallenges man's ability to recognize its bounty. One of thosetimes is now. Truth is, our desert heat is more endurablethan the stifling humidity most of the nation suffers. We sonsof the sun have learned to refrigerate, or estivate. We havealso learned to appreciate; summer colds are rare, congestedlungs clear up, arthritis fades, spirits soar and hope returns.Colors are intensified, landscapes glow, stars acquire newbrilliance, life in general revs down so that we have time toenjoy it. Thank you, Lord.
Two of the things I love most were born in July—me, andthe United States. But when 1 straight-faced as much to myteenage daughter, she shot right back—"Mother, let's havea big party on July 4, hey?" My day's the 20th.
Only reason Independence Hall wasn't in Phoenix wasbecause the transcontinental railway hadn't been built; theLiberty Bell was too heavy to haul out here in a wagon.
I worry some about that Liberty Bell anyway. Here latelythe bureaucrats and treasury raiders have been putting toomany new cracks in it.
When I get knotted up like that, worrying about nationalaffairs, I usually throw a canteen of water and a little snackof grub into the car and head for the wild free hills. Up backof Four Peaks last Spring 1 asked a 70-year-old prospectorif he knew what to do about inflation. "'Ain't heered of it,"said he. See what I mean?"Failure," declared Doc Clarence Salsbury, who hasnever experienced it, "conies to him who follows theline of least persistence."
Don't bother making a flowery speech this July 4 unlessyou are also willing to shoulder a rifle, serve on a draft board,or at least donate a pint of blood. Patriotism, American style,is not synonymous with oratory. It is limited to one magnifi-cent word—
"Civilian service," Governor George Hunt of Arizona oncetold me, "is no less important than military. Hang out a flag,
But don't sit down then, thinking you have done yourduty. Freedom is a sacred trust. And it is not free."
America ever starts getting as much government as it'spaying for, we're sunk.
Seems the mayor of Nipton on the Mojave Desert wastrying to hire a preacher for their new church. "Rev'rend,"said he, "are you by any chance a Baptist?""No sir, I'm not," the good man answered. "Why?""Well, I was just going to explain that we have to haul allour water about 30 miles."
What you are about to read is a true story; nothing hasbeen changed except the wording and the facts:It's not really very hot on the desert in summer. The im-pression of warmth is largely in the imagination. The drynesskeeps the air from being oppressive. In fact you won't noticethe heat at all if you just work hard in the bright cheerfulsunshine.
right, all right, so it's hot.
you expect in
Back in January I gave you a recipe for a palliative guar-anteed to alleviate the heat. Naturally you weren't interestedthen, but you will be now: Mix
cup of lemon juice withl!/2 cups of sugar and chill. Into this slowly pour one quartof whole milk, stirring rapidly. Freeze at once in a hand-turnfreezer. Have a small baseball bat handy to keep neighborsaway from this matchless Sun Country Sherbet, or quadruplethe amount frozen.
As I survey the world from my favorite Point of Rocks, itappears that shiftless people very rarely manage to get intohigh gear.
I feel a little sorry for a certain college professor in Arizona.The kindly gent, poking around on the desert, found whatseemed sure to be the burial place of a gargantuan prehistoricmonster. He and his students were diligently sweating to digout the bones, when Tyson Carter, who owned the land, hap-pened along. Ty watched them a while, chewing his tooth-pick and grinning, then said, "Gents, some of those rib bonesare 12 feet long, all right, and the tail is at least 70 feet. Butthey were hauled in here a few years ago by a show man whowanted to make money exhibiting them. He lost his shirt,and I let him bury them out here. Them's just whale bones."
Statistics reveal that 108.9 percent of the desert dwellerswho say they'd rather stick it out in the hill heat in July andAugust instead of going to the cool California beaches, arelying. Truth is, we just ain't got the money.
Be assured, good friends, that life will knock you toyour knees.
that's the ideal position in which topray.
This may well be the desert citizens' basic philosophy oflife:
Freedom from want, if interpreted as freedom fromnecessity to struggle, would be a calamity if ever realized.
Not meaning to be wise-cracky about it, but hoping to helpweld the unique strength of our close-to-God desert-countrycitizens, I leave you with this thought in this, the month ofour nation's birth:If we aren't careful when we go to the polls, governmentof the feeble, by the feeble and for the feeble will not perishfrom the earth. ///