My Hood in the Woods
I live in what is classified as Bexar county, but is actually located between Pleasanton and San Antonio. My neighborhood is on the outskirts of a small town called Leming. Once you cross over a very narrow, yellow bridge you are on Old Pleasanton Rd. This road has a bad reputation for drugs and crime. Rumor has it that police officers won’t travel out here alone, there has to be at least two officers to a patrol car. Honestly, I’ve never seen a patrol vehicle at all. I live on a dirt road that branches off of Old Pleasanton Rd. (or O. P. for the locals). About three miles down a miserable road and a left down my five mile driveway you can spot my house. If you are familiar with my road then you know it by these directions: Past the crazy guy with the gun at the end of the road, continue past the yellow house, watch out for Buster’s tractor, swerve around Ms. Ally’s cows, avoid all the potholes, go past the weirdo with the cats, and for about three miles of loneliness you encounter my drive on the right hand side with the pipe fence.
Once you pass ghetto lane you are now on my parents fifty acre ranch. The land is vegetated with oak and mesquite trees. There are three man made tanks, one with a pier and stocked with catfish. The other tanks have canoes docked. There is a barn in the back full of horses, cows, chickens, basically all the farm animals. My house was built in the early nineties. It is a large two-story home with a wrap around porch and full balcony on the second floor. It reminds me of Forrest Gump’s house, but not quite as big. In my childhood room there is a huge oak tree sitting outside my balcony. As a child I used to wish I had somewhere to sneak off to, but nothing was nearby. The tree is perfect for climbing down. I just never had anywhere to climb. Now I have turned our pool house into my very own apartment, and I love it. We are secluded from our neighbors and from the description you might be able to understand why.
I like to think that we do not have neighbors, and technically where our home is located we don’t have any at all. When you get back on that long road that is where the “neighbors” live. One man was just admitted to the psychiatric ward for some problem. There is one family who is well put together and extremely nice. She is a school teacher and he is business man. They have two girls and two boys. I feel bad for them because they are located next to some bad people. Buster is the man with the tractor and since our road is a private road he paves it for free. My father owns a car dealership and my mother is a stay at home mom. They also have a kennel business on the side, breeding Miniature Schnauzers and English Bulldogs.
My father is Irish and my mother is Hispanic. My grandparents are Irish and live on the other end of the property in a cozy little cabin, built especially for them. We call it the “love shack”. Many of the people out here are Hispanic. I believe one family is white. Most of the families surrounding our ranch are hard workers, blue collar workers. Don’t get me wrong there are some of them who work really hard for what they have. I really don’t ;like my neighborhood, but I love our home and the serenity of our estate. Overall, it is a pretty decent place to live. There are a few run-down trailers on Old Pleasanton with trash in the yards and broken cars in the drive ways. Six miles down from our road there is a tiny over priced gas station. This is a two pump gas station, with milk for four dollars and ninety nine cents. Everyone goes to that particular gas station because the nearest grocery store is twenty minutes away.
My neighborhood may not be the prettiest scene in the world, but it is my neighborhood. Over the years I have found great appreciation for the things that I have in life. It has been a tremendous blessing. Our ranch is the one thing that holds our family together and brings peace to our lifestyles. The world is a chaotic place and it is important to have an escape, mine is my family’s ranch.
Word Count: 775
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
My Hood in the Woods
My Hood in the Woods
I live in what is classified as Bexar county, but is actually located between Pleasanton and San Antonio. My neighborhood is on the outskirts of a small town called Leming. Once you cross over a very narrow, yellow bridge you are on Old Pleasanton Rd. This road has a bad reputation for drugs and crime. Rumor has it that police officers won’t travel out here alone, there has to be at least two officers to a patrol car. Honestly, I’ve never seen a patrol vehicle at all. I live on a dirt road that branches off of Old Pleasanton Rd. (or OLD P. for the locals). About three miles down a miserable road and a left down my five mile driveway you can spot my house. If you are familiar with my road then you know it by these directions: Past the crazy guy with the gun at the end of the road, continue past the yellow house, watch out for Buster’s tractor, swerve around Ms. Ally’s cows, avoid all the potholes, go past the weirdo with the cats, and for about three miles of loneliness you encounter my drive on the right hand side with the pipe fence.
Once you pass ghetto lane you are now on my parents fifty acre ranch. The land is vegetated with oak and mesquite trees. There are three man made tanks, one with a pier and stocked with catfish. The other tanks have canoes docked. There is a barn in the back full of horses, cows, chickens, basically all the farm animals. My house was built in the early nineties. It is a large two-story home with a wrap around porch and full balcony on the second floor. It reminds me of Forrest Gump’s house, but not quite as big. We are secluded from our neighbors and from the description you might be able to understand why.
I like to think that we do not have neighbors, and technically where our home is located we don’t have any at all. When you get back on that long road that is where the “neighbors” live. One man was just admitted to the psychiatric ward for some problem. There is one family who is well put together and extremely nice. She is a school teacher and he is business man. They have two girls and two boys. I feel bad for them because they are located next to some bad people. Buster is the man with the tractor and since our road is a private road he paves it for free.
My father is white and my mother is Hispanic. Many of the people out here are Hispanic. I believe one family is white. Most of the families surrounding our ranch are hard workers, blue collar workers. Don’t get me wrong there are some of them who work really hard for what they have. I really don’t ;like my neighborhood, but I love our home and the serenity of our estate. Overall, it is a pretty decent place to live.
Word Count: 512
I live in what is classified as Bexar county, but is actually located between Pleasanton and San Antonio. My neighborhood is on the outskirts of a small town called Leming. Once you cross over a very narrow, yellow bridge you are on Old Pleasanton Rd. This road has a bad reputation for drugs and crime. Rumor has it that police officers won’t travel out here alone, there has to be at least two officers to a patrol car. Honestly, I’ve never seen a patrol vehicle at all. I live on a dirt road that branches off of Old Pleasanton Rd. (or OLD P. for the locals). About three miles down a miserable road and a left down my five mile driveway you can spot my house. If you are familiar with my road then you know it by these directions: Past the crazy guy with the gun at the end of the road, continue past the yellow house, watch out for Buster’s tractor, swerve around Ms. Ally’s cows, avoid all the potholes, go past the weirdo with the cats, and for about three miles of loneliness you encounter my drive on the right hand side with the pipe fence.
Once you pass ghetto lane you are now on my parents fifty acre ranch. The land is vegetated with oak and mesquite trees. There are three man made tanks, one with a pier and stocked with catfish. The other tanks have canoes docked. There is a barn in the back full of horses, cows, chickens, basically all the farm animals. My house was built in the early nineties. It is a large two-story home with a wrap around porch and full balcony on the second floor. It reminds me of Forrest Gump’s house, but not quite as big. We are secluded from our neighbors and from the description you might be able to understand why.
I like to think that we do not have neighbors, and technically where our home is located we don’t have any at all. When you get back on that long road that is where the “neighbors” live. One man was just admitted to the psychiatric ward for some problem. There is one family who is well put together and extremely nice. She is a school teacher and he is business man. They have two girls and two boys. I feel bad for them because they are located next to some bad people. Buster is the man with the tractor and since our road is a private road he paves it for free.
My father is white and my mother is Hispanic. Many of the people out here are Hispanic. I believe one family is white. Most of the families surrounding our ranch are hard workers, blue collar workers. Don’t get me wrong there are some of them who work really hard for what they have. I really don’t ;like my neighborhood, but I love our home and the serenity of our estate. Overall, it is a pretty decent place to live.
Word Count: 512
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
Alamo Fraud
We want to “Remember the Alamo”, however, wrong information has polluted our imagination into believing false facts or inaccurate perceptions. History is affected by biased people. Many historians have their own ideas about the Alamo and have a difficult time staying neutral while relaying these events. For example, in the movie “The Alamo”(starring, produced, and directed by John Wayne) there is a plethora of inaccuracies regarding the Alamo. History isn’t perfect; however, the public deserves to know both sides of a story, good or bad. It isn’t the historian’s job to conceal information to make a certain party appear more favorable. It is their obligation to relay as much of the truth as possible. I don’t think that the entertainment industry did the Alamo justice.
Primarily, the Alamo wasn’t an isolated structure in the middle of nowhere. It was the heart of the town and community it surrounded. The Alamo did stand as protection and shelter for hundreds of settlers. There are only names like Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, Jose Navarro, Stephen F. Austin, and Sam Houston that people remember. Despite the fact, there were numerous men who fought and lost their lives but are merely remembered as “the dead” not “the heroes”. The film portrays the good people versus the bad people, the Anglos versus the Mexicans. This is a horrible approach at portraying history. It enables people with the idea that all people of a targeted race are affiliated with the notorious people of that era.
John Wayne does not do the Alamo justice. There is erroneous information in the film. It is possible that Wayne did not have access to the history literature and historians that we have today. However, being a San Antonio native, it is hard to believe how so much information can be so far fetched. Wayne did do a good job at putting feelings and heart into the production. He does show the viewer how hard it was on families and relationships. Love is something that relates to every generation, young, old, any race or culture. Love is a universal feeling. I do feel like he expressed that vividly to the viewers of the film.
Like most, I personally visited the Alamo. In its presence I felt at a loss for words. I hadn’t anticipated on so much emotion while entering the Alamo. After minor research on Wayne it was apparent that he had intense feelings regarding the Alamo. He wanted people to be able to comprehend the events that took place at the Alamo. He achieved this by taking a personal approach while directing this film. He is a mastermind, a real genius of his day. Overall, he did a fabulous job on producing, directing, and starring in the film “The Alamo”. It takes talent and devotion to pull off a production that could engulf people the way this film has overtaken me. The Alamo is a symbolic structure that holds many years of pain and triumph and deserves to be shared and acknowledged for its passion.
Word Count-505
Primarily, the Alamo wasn’t an isolated structure in the middle of nowhere. It was the heart of the town and community it surrounded. The Alamo did stand as protection and shelter for hundreds of settlers. There are only names like Jim Bowie, Davy Crockett, Jose Navarro, Stephen F. Austin, and Sam Houston that people remember. Despite the fact, there were numerous men who fought and lost their lives but are merely remembered as “the dead” not “the heroes”. The film portrays the good people versus the bad people, the Anglos versus the Mexicans. This is a horrible approach at portraying history. It enables people with the idea that all people of a targeted race are affiliated with the notorious people of that era.
John Wayne does not do the Alamo justice. There is erroneous information in the film. It is possible that Wayne did not have access to the history literature and historians that we have today. However, being a San Antonio native, it is hard to believe how so much information can be so far fetched. Wayne did do a good job at putting feelings and heart into the production. He does show the viewer how hard it was on families and relationships. Love is something that relates to every generation, young, old, any race or culture. Love is a universal feeling. I do feel like he expressed that vividly to the viewers of the film.
Like most, I personally visited the Alamo. In its presence I felt at a loss for words. I hadn’t anticipated on so much emotion while entering the Alamo. After minor research on Wayne it was apparent that he had intense feelings regarding the Alamo. He wanted people to be able to comprehend the events that took place at the Alamo. He achieved this by taking a personal approach while directing this film. He is a mastermind, a real genius of his day. Overall, he did a fabulous job on producing, directing, and starring in the film “The Alamo”. It takes talent and devotion to pull off a production that could engulf people the way this film has overtaken me. The Alamo is a symbolic structure that holds many years of pain and triumph and deserves to be shared and acknowledged for its passion.
Word Count-505
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