We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
--boy howdy, that brought a lump to my throat. David mentioned those folks telling him he had a wonderful ministry, and him answering "what are you talking about?" --heh --that's good stuff, crunchy.
Also can't help but gratefully note, Quinlan's not even an hour east of Dallas --and as slick and uptown as Dallas likes to see itself, it don't take but a little ways to be back out in the country again.
Here's my proximity to celebrity: I lived around the corner from David's father (in east Dallas). I also worked with the wife of the producer of Texas Country Reporter.
Impressed, aren't ya'll?
David's father is an excellent gentleman. The wife of the producer? I called her the Wicked Witch of the West. To her face. But then you should have heard what she called me. We had the kind of fun at work that made the day enjoyable.
One of the tricks for getting a regular dog to scent rather than look for the target, if he's too sight oriented, is to blindfold him.
The exercise is to stay on the track you start him on, in spite of cross tracks, and pick up anything he finds that seems like it might be important, say dropped keys or wallet etc. Or, in the formal exercise, glove.