About the King of Texas

I will complete my “About the King of Texas” page later (and I have a lot to say about myself), but because my daughter made me promise to post something—anything—no later than today, I’ll keep my promise with this short prayer:

Oh, Lord, please deliver me from people that use the expression “can’t wrap my head around that.” How can anyone wrap their head around something? If one has difficulty forming a mental grasp of something one has heard, seen or felt, then say it, rather than using such an inane voguish phrase.

On the practical side, should one successfully wrap one’s head around something the cranium would be horribly distorted, and the process of unwrapping one’s head could be unsuccessful—consider just how disastrous that would be.

Far back in March of 2009 I promised to complete this page. What follows is not a completion—it’s more of a work in progress. This is all about me, and I take full responsibility for the contents of this posting. I did it without help from anyone—well,  I used the events of the past 77 years from which to draw thoughts, so I suppose I should credit those years for the thoughts contained herein—to credit all the people involved—family, friends, coworkers, etc., would be a formidable task so I will not even attempt it on this page—my other postings should be sufficient.

As were all of us, I was born at a very early age. I came into this world kicking and screaming—naked, cold, wet and hungry, and that makes me the equal of every one that has ever been born, at least at the time of my birth. Just as was Jesus Christ, I was born without sin, original or otherwise, and given the concept of free will, any change in that category is strictly my fault. If such change exists—and it does—I did it all by myself and I take full responsibility for such changes. Mind you, I am not admitting to anything—there will be time enough for me to come clean at the final reckoning.

My equality with others and my similarity to others did not last very long. Everyone ever born, whether born before or after my birth, were and are better looking or uglier than I, taller or shorter than I, more or less intelligent, more or less diligent, better or worse lovers, better or worse parents, better or worse workers, slimmer or fatter, stronger or weaker, lazier or more industrious, and more or less successful in every aspect that can be imagined of life on this earth, whether  spiritual, metaphysical or physical, all of which simply affirms that each of us differs from all the rest of us.

Most of my early years—those during which I was considered a little boy—were spent in various homes that had few decorative wall hangings—perhaps a calendar or two, but no framed paintings or prints. Walls were made to keep cold out and heat in and vice versa depending on the season, and to provide privacy and safety from the outer world—there was plenty of room for decorations, but my family had neither the money nor the inclination to aquire such items.

As an aside please know that, perhaps in an effort to right that bare-wall syndrome, our home is filled with artwork—we have artwork on our walls, in display cases, in bookcases and on the floor, including wall plaques, collector plates, crystal pieces and porcelain figurines, limited edition framed prints and original paintings. Some of the framed pieces are aligned along the walls as well as on the walls, and many more are stashed deep in closets. We also have books, countable but will never be counted because the task would be too great.

And this is an immutable truth—the day will come, a day that I trust is far in the future, a day that I will ascend—or descend, as the case may be. On that day I am certain that when I check the rear view mirror as I ascend—or descend as the case may be—I will see the granddaddy of all yard sales taking place at my home, hosted by those I leave behind—I’m at peace with that now, and I will be at peace with it then.

The only wall decorations I can remember from those early days are two small plaques, perhaps three by five inches in size. They were dime-store purchases, hung side by side in a front room that doubled—nay, tripled—as a living room, bedroom and game room.

I remember the texts of both plaques vividly. One had an image of an ocean-going sailing ship, and the text read as follows:

My ship went sailing out to sea
With a cargo of hope in its hold.
Someday it will come sailing back to me
With a store of wealth untold.

I am still waiting to claim that store of wealth—if my ship ever returns with those riches, I will probably be at the airport—my guess is that it sank while outbound. However, hope is free—it costs nothing to continue hoping so I still play the lottery, just in case my ship really did sink.

The other plaque had text that read:

There is so much good in the worst of us
And so much bad in the best of us
That it hardly behooves any of us
To talk about the rest of us.

For some years now—not through a lifetime but for some years—I have striven to adhere to the admonitions of both those small plaques by keeping hope alive, and by recognizing both good and bad in others. I try to cling to the good and accept the bad, a process in which, in varying degrees, I have both succeeded and failed.

I beam—inwardly of course—at my successes and cringe at my failures. And this concludes my About the King of Texas page. I welcome any comments, whether praise or rebuke, and I will acknowledge either or both—try me. Oh, although I said this concludes my About the King of Texas page, there’s more here—it’s all about me, me, me!


9 responses to “About the King of Texas

  1. itsjustnotright

    March 23, 2009 at 9:00 pm

    Well said….written. I have never liked the phrase “keep your eyes peeled” which sounds pretty painful. However I do like the phrase “head on a swivel.” I’m sure the King of Texas knows (or will shortly find out) where these phrases originated. He seems like that type of guy to me. Also, it is quite convenient when people say “to me” at the end of a sentence. My 5 year old daughter says that quite often and who can argue with that. Not me.

  2. Barbara Kelley

    June 13, 2009 at 2:44 am

    Dear King of Texas:
    You write like Flannery O’Connor, so maybe you are the King O’Texas. I am going to delve more into this blog at a later time—you know, when I can wrap my mind around it. What do you think of the word “irregardless?”

    • thekingoftexas

      June 13, 2009 at 11:03 am

      Hi, Barbara—thanks for the comment, particularly for your comparison of my writing to that of Flannery O’Connor—I’ll accept it as a compliment, regardless of her propensity to lace her writings with grotesque characters.

      I appreciate your application of an apostrophe to my title—apostrophication, so to speak. I know—apostrophication is not a word—at least it was not a word until I created it. I couldn’t find it anywhere online or offline. I should probably apply for a patent so I could draw royalties each time the word is used.

      I love it—there is probably a wee bit of Irish in all of us, including our current president. And here I must give thanks and a tip of my hat to Kinky Freedman, a well-known Texas resident, a successful writer and sometimes candidate (unsuccessful) for public office. During the 2008 presidential campaign, Kinky said that he would vote for that Irishman, Barak O’Bama.

      As regards—or in regard to—or regarding—irregardless:

      Irregardless is not a proper word, regardless of its appearance in dictionaries and regardless of its use in speeches and writings by supposedly erudite persons. An exception might be when the user is faced with an untutored audience, one that might accept its use as proper—audiences in certain southern hilly or swampy areas, for example.

      You know, of course, that the prefix ir means not, and the suffix less means without, ergo the non-word irregardless contains a double negative.

      Less negates regard all by itself—it needs no help from ir.

      Thanks again for your visit and for your comment. Please feel free to “delve more into” my blog—I welcome your comments, whether compliments or criticisms, and I will respond to either—or both.

  3. Mary Ellen Ryall

    July 26, 2009 at 10:02 am

    Good morning. One day one of our officers said, “I can’t wrap my head around it right now.” I thought, what does she mean? Well, I know now. I became overloaded with projects at work and simply couldn’t take on one more responsibility. Still, I don’t appreciate this kind of expression. Why not just say, I have too much responsibility right now and can’t take on anything more at this time. Information overload is a reality in the work world now unfortunately.

    Cindy Dyer is our graphic artist. She mentioned what a great writer you are. I can see you enjoy being a student of language. The world needs those who can express themselves with polish and flair. The gift of writing using eloquent language skills is fast disappearing from this world.

    Best wishes, Mary Ellen

  4. Will Howard

    February 15, 2010 at 3:13 am

    I just delight in your writing. Texas would be so improved if you would make Texas the focus of your wise wit frequently.

  5. thekingoftexas

    February 15, 2010 at 12:37 pm

    Thanks for visiting, and thanks for the comment. It’s a nice compliment, one that I cheerfully and gratefully accept, and I will in future postings strive to incorporate Texas to the greatest extent possible, whether witty or not so.

    Texas is not my native state, but as the bromide goes, “I got here as soon as I could.” I arrived long ago in the past century as a lowly serf, one among many subjects in our military forces, and in the interim I have ascended to the throne—I am now The King of Texas, albeit the result of self-crowning and self-anointment. It’s important for one to note that the first word in my title is The, and that word makes me supreme, not susceptible to the actions of pretenders and contenders thirsting for my throne and fame—they can use the title A king of Texas or King of Texas or Texas’ King, etc, but none can rightfully claim to be the king of Texas, at least not as a blogger on

    I would like to believe that your comment was inspired purely by your having read About the king of Texas on my blog, but I have reason to suspect that the comment was perhaps tinged—tainted, so to speak—with the purpose of introducing me to your web site and its various connections.

    Hey, whether true or otherwise, I have no problem with it. After reading your comment several times while blushing with sinful pride, I rushed to your site and spent a considerable amount of time rambling around it and its connections, then I bookmarked it and forwarded it to several people. And as Ahhnold is wont to say, “I’ll be bach!”

  6. Margaret Ball

    February 3, 2013 at 8:52 am

    Good Sunday morning to you ‘King’.
    I can’t remember where I stumbled over your rock several days ago – I remember now.
    I was Googling for information on sulphur and molasses.
    You provided me with some early morning laughs like the late Irma Bombeck use to do.
    I also have a budding tell-it-all (well, mostly all) plant in me and bring it with me
    when I pepper my teaching classes on the subject of dowsing. Humour – or humor – depending
    where you sit , gets the material across so much better I find. I remember reading years
    ago about the Army using a Walt Disney Mickey Mouse film to teach new recruites how to
    dismantle ( and mantle (?) their rifles.
    Keep the true tales coming and going ! Love them !
    Margaret Ball

    P.S. My late husband was an Englishman whose last name was Balls.
    And here in lies a spate of true tales that could march to Canterbury.
    After he died, I dropped the ‘s’. Makes life less complicated . But one of these days
    I’m going to move them from the verbal to the written word/audio. Hey, grandma Moses did it.
    Two little words in my 30’s changed my life path…..answer to a question posed to me by my
    neighbor friend returning to their home in Helsinki. Pirkko said ‘Margaret, why don’t you
    come and visit me ?’ I walked across the street to my house saying ‘Why Not ???’

    WHY NOT?

  7. Mike McCloud

    July 20, 2014 at 9:28 am

    I happened upon your blog while I was searching for Miss-Ala Bus Lines when I should have been looking for Miss-Ala Stage Lines. I live in Lawrenceville, GA but I am originally from Vernon, AL. I found this particular blog very funny. And when I was young back in the late 50’s and early 60’s my parents were friends with Brack Oaks and his wife. I don’t know if it is him or might have been Brack Cunningham. That is the only 2 that I remember named Brack.

  8. Sergio Iribe

    February 28, 2016 at 12:24 am

    Hello, King of Texas, I found your blog in a search for how improper the use of “irregardless” is. Having someone use this word is one my pet peeves as well. This reminds me of “7 Other Things I Wish We’d Stop Saying” at, another blog into which I wandered five months ago.


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