I Create My Own Reality

Across the highway from our neighborhood is a farm that sports buffalo roaming in its pastures. A few weeks ago, imagine my surprise as I drove by I noticed a camel in the midst of the buffalo. For a moment I contemplated just how a camel came to live with the buffalo. My best guess--the camel was won in a poker game.

Now, I have absolutely no reason to think the camel was won in a hand of poker. I don't know the owner of the farm. I imagine camels aren't often put up in high stakes games of poker.

But in my own little warped world, I can see the scene--men gathered in a dimly lit, cigar-smoke filled room. Dawn is beginning to break following this all night gambling match. Down to two middle-aged men--one with flashy jewelry and slicked back hair, the other donning a Stetson hat and a plaid Western style shirt, complete with pearl snap buttons. A pile of cash in front of my cowboy, nothing left in front of the slick-man. In an act of desperation, slick bets his camel and loses him to the rancher.

In an unrelated matter, the camel pictured is being ridden by our friend Mr. Glen, a Delta pilot. This is how he spent a layover recently. I bet this camel's owner would never put him up for grabs in a game of poker. This camel is a valuable source of tourist income.