West Texas is not for everyone. I'll be the first person to admit it. My family moved to Midland (300 miles from Fort Worth and 300 miles from El Paso) in 1960. My folks were raised in Eastern Kansas, a land of hills, trees, lakes, rivers and beautiful farms. Midland has none of those. I was five or six years old when the five of us loaded up the Rambler and made the long drive from Overland Park, Kansas. I distinctly remembered my mom crying in the front seat when it finally dawned on her that the parched, ugly landscape we were driving through was going to be her home for the foreseeable future. We had arrived at the bleak, flat, treeless plain that is the Llano Estacado (Staked Plains - so named because the Native Americans used stakes to guide them to the infrequent watering holes). To give you an idea how flat the country is, you can see the tall buildings of downtown from 30 miles in any direction. I'm not exaggerating. Midland is perched near the edge of the great Chihuahuan Desert and averages about fourteen inches of rain in a year (most of which falls in 2 or 3 days). My senior year in high school I think we got two. The wind always blows. Dust storms were common when I was a kid, but better farming practices in the Texas Panhandle have helped tremendously. I remember times when we could look out the window and not be able to see the houses across the street. One particular storm piled tumbleweeds nearly to the top of our roof. Mom didn't know what we were going to do, but a few days later another big wind blew them all away. It can get brutally hot. It is not unusual to see temperatures over 110 degrees in the summer. You can fry an egg on the sidewalk (I've done it) and walking barefoot on the street or sidewalk will give you serious blisters on the bottom of your feet. On the other hand it can get pretty cold in the winter. The old joke is that there ain't nothin' between Midland and the North Pole but barbed wire fence.

Looking back, I think Mom went a little crazy during the first couple of years. Dad was only home on the weekends and I (the oldest) was still too young for her to talk to. One Christmas she started making things out of tumbleweeds. She spray-painted them white and wired them together to make a "snowman". We also had a tumbleweed "chandelier" in our living room. Then there was the snake. One morning I walked into the living room and saw what I at first thought was my belt laying on the floor. Mom is Pennsylvania Dutch, and therefore a complete neat freak, so I immediately went to pick it up. It moved. Then it made a weird, buzzing sound. My sister and I started yelling "SNAKE! SNAKE!" Mom thought we were watching a snake on the television. Finally, when we wouldn't stop yelling, she came in the room to see what the fuss was about. The next few minutes were kind of a blur. I remember a lot of screaming. I remember getting dragged outside and watching a neighbor man go into our house with a hoe. A little while later we went back in and the snake was gone, but there was a bloody spot on the carpet. Mom tried and tried to get that spot out, but it was still there when we moved.

I've always said that the best thing about being from Midland is that you can go anywhere in the world and be impressed by the scenery. If there are hills or trees, or especially any kind of surface water then we think it's beautiful. If you ever travel with someone from West Texas watch what they do whenever they cross a bridge. If there is water, even a muddy ditch, I guarantee you they will turn their head and check it out. They may drive across that bridge ten times a day and they will do it every single time.

The real beauty in West Texas is in the vast swath of ever-changing sky. You can see the tops of towering thunderstorms two hundred miles away. Unless the sky is overcast you will always have a magnificent sunrise and sunset. Another odd trait we West Texans share is that we get a little claustrophobic after a few days in mountains or forests. We really like to see the distant horizon.

It has been 48 years since Mom first laid eyes on Midland, Texas. She and Dad still live there, happily. They have surrounded themselves with dear friends, some of whom go clear back to 1960. My dad's retired now, and plays golf several times a week. They have been married for fifty-three years, some of which were pretty lean. I'm glad they chose to stay, though. Midland was a pretty good place to grow up.