Gitmo ain't got nothin' on Rosebud. Russell and Dennis are in my waking
thoughts every day. My youngest kid took off - at age fourteen (that would be
'83) - for Rosebud / Pine Ridge armed with nothing more than a one-way Greyhound
ticket and a poem I had written for his journey.
I have overheard him apologizing to trees for hanging stuff in the branches
while he's fixing his truck.
We are not NA. We are - maybe - 1/2 Mexican by osmosis. What we are, though,
is...right. And respectful.
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