The Old Cowboy as most folks, who hang around the Fellowship Room know, grew up in the Oklahoma oilfields in a little town called Seminole. Last week while visiting a class I had to grin when the teacher told the class “now llisten to me.” It immediately took me back to my high school days and Miss Leota Stegall’s math class. It was in that class many of us boys learned to be quiet and to listen. You learned early on, Miss Stegall was down right lethal with a meter stick. About ten years later I knocked on her door one night while I was out campaigning for a seat on the Seminole City Council. When she answered that door I had a sudden urge to raise my hand to ask for permission to speak, and before I said a word I looked to see if she had a meter stick in her hand. I have always figured she voted for me just to get even. I learned other reasons to keep quiet at places like Herman’s Drive Inn, the Chieftian Drive Inn, and in a booth at Pat’s Cafe, on East Broadway. In those places I learned if you keep guiet kids don’t make fun of you and you don’t get into fights.
In the Oklahoma oilfields you learn at a young age that listening isn’t going to get you in trouble. I discovered when I got older that you learn a lot when you sit back and listen to folks for a spell. Today a lot of folks need to learn that lesson. It seems however that their faces get red and they want to answer before you are finished. When you get around folks and the pack seems to be barking all at the same time, sit back and listen for a spell. That way you’ll be able to figure out which ones are just running off at the mouth. I always figure some arguments aren’t worth the trouble to get involved in.