Meet Gus Gaunt of Santa Monica/Texas

Gus, with his game face on, and his boots.

    

      I was finished with the “How Come Texans Are So Dad-Blamed Proud” series, when a young friend of mine, Rachel Chamberlain Gaunt, published a Facebook picture of her four-month-old boy, Gus.  It reinforces my point about how we raise our children to grow up and be proper Texans, and I felt I must share it. I contacted Rachel and she added some details.  Gus was born as the sound of George Strait singing “Amarillo by Morning” wafted thru the delivery room.  I want you to read it in Rachel’s words:

     “Amarillo by Morning was one of those happy accidents that, after the fact, seem meant to be.  The anesthesiologist asked what kind or music I’d like to listen to during my C-section.  (I had no idea we could choose our music, but the surgery room was equipped with Pandora so I could choose any artist and it creates a playlist of the same genre)  So, of course, I said Willie Nelson.  All the nurses and the doctor did a double take—this is Santa Monica, California—and said they hadn’t had that request before.  I explained that I was from Texas and this baby would recognize the country music from his time in the womb.  He selected Willie on Pandora and the first song to play was Good-Hearted Woman, followed by Willie, Waylon and Me, and Blue Skies, then Amarillo By Morning, and a loud cry from Gus.  It was a magical experience made even more special by the music I’d grown up with and I’ll never forget it!  While the doctor sewed me up to Folsom Prison Blues and Georgia, he said he really liked the music so my husband, Kevin,    made him a CD of all the songs.  We gave it to him at the post-surgery checkup and he was tickled!!  We Texans leave our mark!!  I have a copy of the CD too, of course, and I cry every time I listen to it—Gus’ anthem is a rodeo song!!  Lucky boy!”   Rachel

     Rachel’s parents are naturalized Texans—they were not born here, but got here as quickly as they could.  Many of us have those little closet secrets, but we don’t talk about them.  One of my grandsons was born in Boston, of all places, and we sure don’t advertise it.  Charlotte carried a plastic baggie full of Texas dirt up there, and rubbed it on his feet while the nurses weren’t looking.  We think it worked, but time will tell—that boy does march to a different set of drums.

     Rachel finished college and went to California in search of adventure and gainful employment.  She met and fell in love with a handsome young man named Kevin Gaunt.  They went to Houston for their formal engagement party.  Charlotte and I made the trek back for the party, showing how much we love Rachel and her parents. (If I ever forget why I left Houston, my memory comes back at about I-10 and Mason Road.  The traffic is awful, and people live there because they have jobs there.  It is a great and exciting city and I love it, but the time comes to move on.)

Gus, with his Austin City Limits shirt, provided by family members in Austin.

     At the engagement party, it was decided that we could not have sweet Rachel living with a foreigner, so we had to make young Kevin an Honorary Texan.  It was a simple, but solemn ceremony.  Kevin had to down a shot of tequila, kiss an armadillo on the lips, and sing the “Eyes of Texas” a cappella, from memory.  He passed with flying colors.

     I know there are more stringent conditions for some applicants for Texas Citizenship, but Kevin was a decent sort and we respected Rachel’s judgment.  We used a stuffed armadillo and waived the provision for kissing the other end of a live armadillo.  No one could find a quart of warm Lone Star beer for him to chug-a-lug, so that provision was slightly altered also.

     Kevin and Rachel are at home now, in the Santa Monica area, living their life and rearing their son, Gus.  Look carefully at the picture and you can see they are doing a fine job.  At four months, Gus has his first pair of cowboy boots and his first UT outfit.  He has been listening to country songs since before he was born.

     Observe the position of his brawny arms, set up in exactly perfect form for an all-everything linebacker about to plug a hole in the defensive line.  I expect, however, he will play in the backfield and get the girls.  Just think what that great Southwest Conference announcer, Kern Tipps, could have done with that name.  “Gus Gaunt Gains Gobs of Ground ‘Ginst the Ganders!”

     I’ve said this before in other ways, but one of the nice things about growing old is watching people you knew as children grow into adults.   Seeing them on a whole new level, hearing about their achievements, watching them contribute to society, and knowing, deep inside, that as good as you were, they may be better.

    As Rachel said, “We Texans leave out mark!”  Watch out, Yankees.  Gus is coming.

Gus, preparing to sneak up on a deer.  Camos provided by family members in Dallas.