The Evenin' Shadders

Note: As you can tell, I write a lot about my kids. Not too long ago, while cleaning out the computer I stumbled on this essay. I had written it when my son was a toddler — today he's 12 — which proves my point in the last paragraph. — MSC. It usually starts right before sundown-the time of evening when the Oklahoma sky changes from deep blue to golden orange, then red and, finally, purple. I watch the tall, stately trees slowly fade from brown and green to black - spiky silhouettes waiting patiently for the earth to turn, again, on its belly. It's bed-time. And for my son, Ethan, it's a well-choreographed event which began at 7 this morning. He's been busy. Up early. Preschool by eight. Friends. Field trips. Books. Maybe the park. And-for Ethan, this is a must-some time alone with his ol' buddy, Barney. Then back home. Maybe a bike ride. The park again. More books. Outside. Then bed-time. True, Ethan has better things to do than go to bed. Given the chance, he'

(Note: For those of you who are tired of the cold; here's something worth remembering — summer. — MSC) There are certain days during an Oklahoma summer when the sidewalks melt. On those days, the sun transforms itself from a gentle, warm orb to a menacing, white-hot inferno which hangs just low enough in the sky to scorch everything in its view. The sky is a pale, listless blue; a blue that's faded and worn, like a young girl's favorite jeans. On those days, there is no breeze. Yet, somehow, small clouds of red dust drift, swirl and dance like ancient spirits; they float quietly reminding all in their path that nature has long ruled the 46th state. On those days, there is little movement. Life is still. Most humans have retreated inside, thankful for the technology that birthed air-conditioning and iced tea. On those days, an occasional, fat bumble bee will assault a wilting flower. Across the street, a lone, rust-colored representative of the canine population will scamper

(Note: One of the great things about working at a newspaper is being able to write a column. I wrote this column last year. My wife loves it — it's about our 7-year-old, Clay. Like I said, the kids, they inspire me. — MSC) The six-year-old in front of me is crying. Tears run freely from his large, brown eyes and form small patterns in the dirt on his face. Cupped in his hands — dirty from several baseball games and at least one stint of digging holes in the back yard — is the entire sum of his wealth: $2.17 "Will this be enough?" he asks, struggling to choke back his tears. "Will this fix Lilly?" Lilly is our beagle. A goofy, floppy-eared creature who spends most of her time licking the people here at our Davis Court estate. The kids love Lilly. She sleeps with them, she plays with them, and - given the opportunity - she'd eat with them; she's part of the tribe of youngsters my wife and I have taken to raise. Lilly also likes to run. And, for the record,

(Note: My kids inspire me; usually it's to drink more, but they, nonetheless, do inspire me. Hence the reason for this essay. This was written when my son, Ethan, was much younger — he's now 12 — and I almost trashed it. I glad I didn't, because I like it much better now. Let me know what you think...) I Am Ethan's Father (the official job description) From 8 am to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday, I am a wholly owned subsidiary of the state of Oklahoma; the Senior Media Officer for the Oklahoma House of Representatives. I answer to the Director of the Media Division, the Chief Clerk and Administrator and the Speaker of the House. However, after that... •I am the evil, Dr. Scum. The arch rival of Good Prince Ethan and Pure Light Brigade -- I am easily captured. And easily eliminated. Yet I can morph into a thousand different creatures simply by using my super-powerful, yet easily bent, hollow cardboard tube-wand thingy. •I am the designated Designer of Train Tracks. My tr

(Note: In the annals of "see, I told ya' so) well...the story speaks for itself. By M. Scott Carter Transcript Staff Writer OKLAHOMA CITY -- While Oklahoma Gov. Brad Henry's State of the State address was well received by a few members of Cleveland County's legislative delegation, other area lawmakers are giving it a lukewarm reception. State Rep. Bill Nations, a Norman Democrat, said the governor has proven he can work with lawmakers on both sides of the aisle. "It's clear his approach to bipartisanship and seeking solutions both parties can agree on is incredibly successful," Nations said. Nations also said he supported Henry's call for $75 million in funding for the state's endowed chair program. During his speech, Henry asked lawmakers to support a $75 million bond issue which could be used to capture another $75 million in private donations for the endowed chair program at state universities. However, two of Nations' fellow lawmakers ques

Tomorrow (Monday), the Oklahoma Legislature reconvenes and Governor Brad, Yes-I-Kicked-Ernie's-Butt-Bad Henry delivers his annual State of the State address. Here's my prediction about the content of this speech: •Henry will talk about state growth, saying we're growing, but we need to be careful with revenue. The plan-for-the-future, thingy. •He'll talk about the importance for education and permanent funding for OHLAP...expect statistics. •He'll talk about the importance of bipartisanship and working together to solve the state's problems. •He'll talk bout the need to reduce the cost of corrections; using alternatives to incaceration. •He could mention the recent ice storms and talk about people's hard work thorough them and his request for disaster funds. •He'll talk about jobs and the economy and what we need to do to keep our economic engine running. •He might mention oil and gas, who knows. Come noon tomorrow, we'll all find out. — MSC

(Note: I wrote this essay several years ago; a different version was published in a short-lived magazine. Still, I miss this woman. She would have had great insight into today's issus — MSC). She was already old when I first met her, seventy-nine, to be exact. Long past the days of flirting and summer dresses. Long past those sultry, sticky Arkansas nights and lovemaking enveloped by the smell of a Magnolia tree. She'd lived through Selma, "the trouble" and King's march. Al Jolson no longer topped the Hit Parade and Orivil Fabus hadn't been in office for years. She was in the twilight of her life. For her the days were sorter, the summers hotter, and the winters colder. She tired easily and couldn't recall things like she used to. She had aged. Time had taken once smooth skin and creased it with wisdom and worry. Her hair — years ago it was bobbed and black — was now pure white. Thick glasses framed a pair of bright eyes which always seemed to be search