Tuesday, October 31, 2006
One beautiful thing
Last year, I gave a CLE (Continuing Legal Education) lecture out in Odessa, Texas. Odessa is stuck out in the Permian Basin, which is flat, dry, and unforgiving. I can't say that I thought it was pretty, or that anyone described it to me as "pretty" before I got there.
The lecture was part of a day-long conference at the Odessa Country Club, which is the only country club I have ever been to with a working oil derrick in the parking lot. In the midst of a drought, the golf course looked like a survival trek. But once I got inside, I found the true heart of West Texas. The people were kind, engaging, and thoughtful, and I had a great day. In fact, instead of heading home I stayed overnight and accepted the invitation of a few of the attendees to go to the Midland-Odessa Permian game that night.
The Odessa football stadium isn't that much different than the rest of Odessa. It is set out on the middle of a big windblown parking lot, with plenty of abandoned oil equipment within sight. At least, that's true on the outside.
Once I walked into the stadium, everything changed. The stadium itself is huge, but sunk into the earth so that it cuts off the view of the outside world but for the sky. It was dusk, and the people were filling the stadium, holding signs or wearing jerseys to support their son, their brother, or their friend. The players ran out, taut and anxious, and the game began. The game itself was interesting, but not so much as the tableau of it all. The green field, the stands full of people with a passion for something, and most of all, that broad twilight desert sky above us with the reds beginning to fade-- it was the most beautiful place in the world, and we all knew it.
The lecture was part of a day-long conference at the Odessa Country Club, which is the only country club I have ever been to with a working oil derrick in the parking lot. In the midst of a drought, the golf course looked like a survival trek. But once I got inside, I found the true heart of West Texas. The people were kind, engaging, and thoughtful, and I had a great day. In fact, instead of heading home I stayed overnight and accepted the invitation of a few of the attendees to go to the Midland-Odessa Permian game that night.
The Odessa football stadium isn't that much different than the rest of Odessa. It is set out on the middle of a big windblown parking lot, with plenty of abandoned oil equipment within sight. At least, that's true on the outside.
Once I walked into the stadium, everything changed. The stadium itself is huge, but sunk into the earth so that it cuts off the view of the outside world but for the sky. It was dusk, and the people were filling the stadium, holding signs or wearing jerseys to support their son, their brother, or their friend. The players ran out, taut and anxious, and the game began. The game itself was interesting, but not so much as the tableau of it all. The green field, the stands full of people with a passion for something, and most of all, that broad twilight desert sky above us with the reds beginning to fade-- it was the most beautiful place in the world, and we all knew it.
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I was at a clerkship last year in Midland. At the risk - well, the certainty - of being cheesy, I agree that there were TWO beautiful things about Midland. First, while most of the natives kept talking about the lush pine trees in East Texas where I am from, I was amazed by the ability to actually see the sunset. I felt every day that I was in some old Western tableau when I woke up. Second, that was the most friendly, irreverent and hard-working group of attorneys I have ever had the opportunity to work with (er...of the four groups I have worked with in my vast experience, I guess). My husband often wondered if there was something in the water at the office we could bring back home to the other firms I worked for.
But in the end, I missed my pine trees too much! Sunsets are overrated, but I still hope I can be like that group of attorneys 10 years from now.
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But in the end, I missed my pine trees too much! Sunsets are overrated, but I still hope I can be like that group of attorneys 10 years from now.
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