No Country For Los Bastardos

“Do not burn yourselves out.” Edward Abbey advises. 

“Be as I am - a reluctant enthusiast....a part-time crusader, a half-hearted fanatic. Save the other half of yourselves and your lives for pleasure and adventure. It is not enough to fight for the land; it is even more important to enjoy it. While you can. While it’s still here. So get out there and hunt and fish and mess around with your friends, ramble out yonder and explore the forests, climb the mountains, bag the peaks, run the rivers, breathe deep of that yet sweet and lucid air, sit quietly for a while and contemplate the precious stillness, the lovely, mysterious, and awesome space. Enjoy yourselves, keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to the body, the body active and alive, and I promise you this much; I promise you this one sweet victory over our enemies… 

You will outlive the bastards.” 

As keeping Gordon Lamb safe and sound is - in every single-solitary one of my days - among my tip-top priorities… I’m always excited to find something that allows me to coax him away from the screen, the numb-ahs. A couple Saturdays ago, Jamie Anderson, our friend over at Hey Neighbor Mow & Clean came in with an assist. And… PSST! Follow them on Facebook dear one because who knows when he’ll do another giveaway that offers YOU a chance to get out and “keep your brain in your head and your head firmly attached to your body.”

(Was going to use the “sweet and lucid air” bit but - you know - hundred thousand percent #TooSoon.)

Anyhoo! Before the Pollengeddon of 2025, I won tickets on Hey Neighbor’s Facebook page to… drumroll… Goat Yoga!!! Which we couldn’t stop singing to the tune of the Hot Pockets jingle, but I digress. Point is, it was an absolute gas! Pregnant goats, baby goats, goats that ate Gordon’s hair. There was even a little goat that could Crip Walk. It was part of a larger story as an intro to a body slam. But somehow still V. demure. I barely even hit a child’s pose. Too busy fully immersing myself in outliving “the Bs.”

And it’s a good thing I’m on top of the keeping Gordon around as long as possible sitch because he has been full of surprises lately! A benefit at Johnny’s Ramp was SO CHIC! that I could hardly stand it. Peep my instagram stories for a peek. And then he insisted that I take the Mabry girls to dinner at The Peacock for: mocktails and short-rib hummus and spiced fries and kebabs - oh my! I’d tell you the flavors of the exquisite ice cream we ordered to close out the fancy feast but I’m guessing I had already blacked out on fresh, warm pita because I am simply coming up with zilch. But on Sunday, he outdid himself. And took me to church. 

We’ve been hoping Tobe Nwigwe would land in Atlanta for a few years. And he did. Or so I thought. You see I was under the impression that we had to miss Tobe because he played Atlanta while we were in Austin. But Mister Lamb, sly (stone cold) fox that he is, knew that particular performance was rescheduled and sneakily made sure that we had tickets. 

So there we were. At the Tabernacle. Listening to a man who can walk it, talk it, live it, and give it. And suddenly there it was, right in the palm of my hand - missing for what felt like so long . . . hope. And a prayer.

Click here: G's column will tell you A.L.L.  about it!