The Gonzo Wolf

This tree. The alien things this tree has seen and heard throughout the decades. I say alien, because I assume trees find us as such. None of us can assume to comprehend the comings and goings of trees. One good turn, and such.

The park in which it resides began as a privileged playground over a century ago, then transformed into – what my old redneck friends and neighbors an hour away believed to be – one of, if not the most dangerous neighborhood in Dallas. Oak Cliff; it was a term in my conservative, Caucasian upbringings synonymous with the poor, black community, murder, drugs, gangs, zombies, werewolves, vampires, Sasquatch, and alien lube-free anal-probing. Basically, to this very day, the term “Oak Cliff” is associated with such things still in my hometown!

I know this for a fact.

I know this, because I have a family member who works there in law enforcement. He did what lots of family members are beginning to do now that Trump’s mask is slipping; he suggested that we hang out and catch up. I agreed. I invited him to our home in Dallas. He accepted the invite, adding the condition, “As long as it’s not in Oak Cliff,” with a confident chuckle.

We haven’t spoken since. I don’t have time for that kind of narrow-minded bullshit in middle-age. Instead, I choose to speak to this tree. When I walk the park in the mornings, I make sure to touch it and wish it well. This tree has seen things t’would put modern society in therapy.

I had a lot of hopes for this guy, then he became a small town cop. I knew he wouldn’t be mentally tough enough to resist the pull to the white side, aka the yee-haw, buddy-buddy, racial jokes behind-the-hand, camaraderie that defines law enforcement offices in small towns around The South. It’s not just a media-born stereotype; I lived it myself for over a decade.

This morning, this tree finally spoke back to me. “I told you so,” he scoffed in “tree”; quite easy to translate, surprisingly.

He did, though. He truly did. I’m not sure why he chose this as the one time to reach out to me, but he did.

This tree’s kinda a dick.

At least he’s not a racist.