Mission Statement

Spare me.
I'll bet that's what you thought when you saw the title of this post. And yet, I don't feel right starting this blog experiment without some indication of its purpose - if only to save hapless, casual readers from having to read further should the following hold no interest:

I call this blog 'ghost dance' because 19th century American frontier history is one of my chief interests, and many of the postings here will be aimed at exploring historical facts, fables, and some of my own weird analogical thinking about people and events that came before. It is born of a gnawing respect for the struggles and passions of the people who called the Great Plains home in the 19th century - whites, Native Americans, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, you name it. Oh, and it also has roots in what Faulkner meant when he said, "the past is never dead; it isn't even past. " In short, this blog is an attempt to dance with ghosts; hopefully they won't mind the occasional misstep.

Relevance? Well, be your own judge, but I believe Lewis Lapham was right when he wrote, "We build the future out of the lumber of the past." I'm sure he knows what Faulkner what talking about.

I'm a freelance copywriter and an avid reader of anything written by Cormac McCarthy, so his writings (and others) may get mentioned from time to time, but at this point I'm not interested in reconnoitering his symbolism or classical literary references - mythological or theological. There are plenty of chats available for that.

A disclaimer - I do not hold degrees in history, nor do I present my thoughts as authoritative, scholarly, or anything other than the ramblings of an aficionado. I don't intend to start or engage in debates. I merely seek to explore my own particular interests publicly, and hopefully to expand my knowledge through interaction with other like-or-unlike-minded ghostdancers along the way. Where does all that leave us? Who knows? I'm new here too.

One last thing: I had a great uncle who was a farmer. He once described a horse he owned as a "churn-head," meaning stubborn. My wife tells me I'm stubborn. That's how I decided on the URL.

Over and out.