A question I'm asked frequently is, "How come you live on the side of a dirt road in OK. when you often say that you love living in the city?" Okay, I'll explain. Oklahoma was an unknown entity to me until a family I know invited me to spend a long Christmas weekend with them. I hadn't seen them for a long time, so I accepted. (I was single then and had vacation time to use.) Off I went. From the moment I got off the plane until I went to sleep that night, I was gobsmacked. I'd never been able to see so far, not counting the time I spent in the desert, and I had never inhaled such FRESH air. My friends and I sat on the front porch of their house until way after midnight. I believe I dominated the conversation; I had so many questions to ask about OK. The sights and sounds of the night intrigued me. This was stuff I'd never experienced. Millions of stars wrapped around a moon that was so bright, it nearly hurt my eyes. I felt I could see for miles in every direction. No buildings or construction blocked my view. I listened to hoot owls try to scare up mice. Whispering breezes rustled dry leaves still on trees, and most important of all … there was NO SOUND OF TRAFFIC. If I had to summarize in one word all I felt, I would have to say … peaceful. I shall always remember that special Christmas weekend. Before I began my trip back, I told my friends I had fallen in love with their state. Nobody was shocked when I moved to Oklahoma five weeks later. Lately, I find myself thinking about city life. It might be nice if I could walk to a store, walk to church, stroll to a cafeteria, or traipse somewhere for a glass of cold beer. I guess that has a lot to do with what I say about life in the city. That's okay with me. It's how it should be. I'm happy here in our place on the side of a dirt road.​

So, like Paul Harvey used to say, "… and now you know the rest of the story."