Tuesdays with Garth… Something to Get You Through to Hump Day


It’s Doc Mehl’s weekly feature:  TUESDAYS WITH GARTH!  I gave Garth Brooks permission to present a few of my poems during his stage performances… we’re pretty close, you know, Garth and me.  These photos show Garth and me both performing… “The Great Divide.”  Garth, old friend… I couldn’t have done it better myself!   


The Great Divide                    

Copyright 9-2006     Al “Doc” Mehl


Great Grandpa Mehl was born in West Virginia, 1859.

The old log home where he was born sat on the Mason Dixon Line.


Now if the baby’d been a girl, they would’ve dressed her up in pink,

But when they saw it was a boy… they maybe had to stop and think.


You see, you’d usually dress a boy in blue, but this boy, hard to say;

Would he wear blue just like the Union men, or maybe Rebel gray?


And then my Gramps was born in Kansas; it was 1881,

A couple years before the Texas cattle drives were fin’lly done.


It was a complicated birth, left him a palsy in one arm,

So, though he might have been a cowboy, now he’d have to learn to farm.


And then, my dad was born in Ab’lene, of a doctor’s helpin’ hand.

Would this boy someday move to town, or would he stay to work the land?


Would he be learnin’ ’bout the thresher and the old style bailin’ hooks,

Or maybe learnin’ from a schoolmarm, and a library of books?


Me, I was born in Wichita, and though my daddy’s life was gritty,

Would I come to know the land, or would I live in some big city?


Would I be turnin’ ’way from his’try, or be searchin’ for my roots?

Would I walk a new direction, or trod ’long in daddy’s boots?


See, at the time of procreation, it’s as if a coin is tossed,

And only one road can be taken; something’s gained, and something’s lost.


Each brand new baby comes into this world upon a shifting tide,

And ev’ry birth is like a raindrop…  falling on the Great Divide.


(Find Doc Mehl at www.Facebook.com/DocMehl , and also at www.docmehl.com .)


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