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Jordan T. Satepauhoodle
Pisaroya: Big Mountain. Classic Comanche ingenuity. From a young age, the Grand Old Man, Old Fuss and Feathers, always seemed to be a big, friendly white guy down the way. Some dude named Scott. We’d have the cheapest-feeling birthday parties there, eat the cheapest pizza. Somehow, we were always doing a “white activity” just by being there.
Nowadays, I try to take nature a little more seriously. Years of studying visual art have made the daily Van Gogh’s apparent to me. A cow field is now an attractive field. I can see Mount Scott again. Life is great… Did we seriously call it Big Mountain back in the day, or were we joking? It’s hard to tell with us.
As my family prepares for the annual, anxious round trip to celebrate Thanksgiving at my sister’s place, I’m excited to see my niece and nephew. It’s fun to flutter in and out of lives like a Katy Perry plastic bag. The time to grow up will come as soon as I can talk to someone about Mount Scott. Was pisaroya a joke? If only one of my ancestors could explain the context in which the word was used. Maybe it was a joke.
Comanche Code Talkers used a lot of slang to confuse the Germans back in the day. I was under the impression there were more of them, another quick Google search put that to an end. There were thirteen. I’ve always wondered what they called Mount Scott back in the day. It was Big Mountain.
Wow.
Two 3/16th Comanche children taking turns sliding off the used bounce house. I can only help one of them defy gravity and walk up the slide for so long until the other, heavier one jumps in.
It’s alright.
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