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Riding Shotgun With Adventure
by Ron Langston
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My Personal Hero:
The Brush Man of Texas
Responding to a call only he can hear, he returns to
this spot most every weekend, and for months at a
stretch, in times of peace and in times of national
crisis. The Brush Man of Texas comes to this same
spot, and no matter how hot the steamy Texas sun or
glare of media cameras, he clears the brush away.
Clears it with a devotion seen only in certain species
of salmon or Norwegian lemmings. Where the brush
comes from or how it piles up, nobody knows. The town
of Crawford is home to many ranches, but none seem to
have the steady supply of brush as the one belonging
to the Brush Man, a man with the unlikely name of Bush.
Armed only with a pair of leather gloves and a smirk
that can reduce a man to a trembling saloon girl at 30
paces, the Brush Man continues his never-ending quest
to rid his ranch of brush. Whether as small as a
handful of twigs or as large as a decent-sized branch,
nothing stands in the way of the Brush Man. When the
world comes crashing down, and lesser men would bog
down with wars and rumors of wars, the Brush Man stays
focused on his brush-clearing mission. Some would say
it's a mission from God. The Brush Man surely would.
E-mail Ron at shotgun@dailyprobe.com
(Transcribed by Slick Sharkey)
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