I can do my living here just fine

I love Larry McMurtry’s writing. As with most of his fans, my first read of his was Lonesome Dove. Most will say that it is his magnum opus, and it probably is, but to be honest, I have never felt like it was his best book. Don’t get me wrong, it is a fantastic novel and it will make you think deeply about life for a long, long time afterwards. 

But my favorite of his novels is actually just his second or third published book, a relatively short novel titled “Leaving Cheyenne.” This is the second of his interesting Thalia trilogy, which is a sort-of made-up town in North-Central Texas (it really does/did exist, but it is a ghost town now) somewhere between Wichita Falls and his hometown of Archer City. 

The Thalia trilogy is interesting because the three novels have nothing to do with each other; no familiar or shared characters, and not even common timeframes. Leaving Cheyenne actually covers the span of a lifetime of three close friends/a romantic love triangle, but that isn’t very important for this dispatch.

The female lead, Molly, grows up on the family ranch, and all of her brothers and her sister move away from their abusive, alcoholic father, but she chooses to stay, saying several times that she plans on staying right there at that same ranch for the rest of her life. When pressed for why she never visits anywhere further than Chickasha, Oklahoma (for her scoundrel husband’s funeral), her answer is simply that she can do all of her living in rural Texas just fine.   

As I get older, this sentiment resonates with me more and more. The more I got out and saw the world, the less interesting it was when my family wasn’t with me to share it. Sure, Germany and Western Europe was beautiful, but without my wife and kids there, it was kind of lame. Same with Australia, Japan, you name it. Beautiful, unique, and dull when you aren’t really living it. You are just a visitor. 

And when we keep yearning for that “something” else that we think we are missing, what are we missing out on right in front of us? What if we could just do all of our living right here just fine? Maybe this summer is the right time to go to that car show and fireworks display in your hometown, or to try out that family diner you’ve been putting off for a while because you lost track of time. 

Also, a quick side note: McMurtry fascinates me because I know where he came from. I spent four years in Abilene, Texas, and drove the long, boring drive between Abilene and Wichita Falls many times. I was cruising through Archer City and grabbing a burger at the Dairy Queen he writes about in “Walter Benjamin at the Dairy Queen” way before I knew who he was. Common geographic familiarity breeds common interest, at least in my opinion.