JUST TRYIN' TO STAY THIS SIDE OF THE GRASS!
A few months ago I pulled into the handicap space in front of our local Post Office, and saw Jake Copass coming out with a couple of letters in his hand. Now Jake is a man twhat you would call "ramrod straight", about six feet, thin and wiry, and not one of those fakes, but a real cowboy. He has a beautiful head of silver hair, a thin mustache, and for eighty years old, not a wrinkle in his face. That's probably because under that white Stetson he always wears a smile.

He's bought and sold cattle and horses all over the west, even driven herds into Mexico in his career. When he was in the Army during WWII, he was in charge of 1600 mules in New Guinea, because that was the only place they couldn't use the Jeep. Mules transported all the supplies for the Allied troops there.

But Jake is also a Cowboy poet, and he has a great way of expressing himself. That day I asked him, "Hi Jake, how're you doing?"

His answer came back plain and simple, "Howard, I"m must trying to stay this side of the grass."

I had a great day today, and as Jake says, "I'm jus' tryin' to stay this side of the grass."