Walkin'

   I was walking behind Boot Hill Saturday afternoon toward the Presto. It's a decent walk from my lair. But it's also a short drive. And it was at that moment - in a gentle sun - on a side street behind Montana Mike's kitchen, that I realized I'd rather be walking.
   I'd always known it. I made a habit of it in Omaha, but I didn't have a car. Here in Dodge City, I do.
   Before moving here, with the knowledge my Dad was going to lend me a car, I thought driving would become a habit. But it hasn't. I only spend $10 in gas a month, which saves money for other people who want my money - like student loan collectors, the landlord, the federal government and the internet and light bulb people.
   There's no way around them. But I can get around the oil men, kind of. Petroleum is everywhere, though.
   Housing isn't always easy to find. I haven't bugged out. I live within the system. I'm a reporter, and I like seeing my stories in print. Plus, if I didn't write a story a day - I wouldn't feel right. So, I haven't bugged out. But I admire those who do.
  With that said, I try to live in close proximity to my newspaper. I work for the Daily Globe, and am thankful to have a job that's not in a dish room. By living so close, I save more money. And I get to walk back and forth because the distance isn't harsh, not even in winter. 
   However, when summer beats down - walking can be a pain. But it's hotter in the car.
   And I'm not really aiming at any agenda, I'm just saying I'd rather walk.
   That's really all I have to announce.