Tardy Transmissions from Beyond the Bible Belt - Episode 1

As widely circulating reports have suggested, I, Josh Justice have indeed escaped the tyrannically tight belt that is Lubbock, and have tossed it along with its shiny buckle to the wayside. I can't say it was a a Great escape, certainly nothing of which Steve McQueen could be proud. Perhaps it was more of a whimpering crawl, a sort of duck and roll out of Lubbock and into...into...?


Alpine, Texas - population 5, 786, hometown of yours truly and site of such fame and infamy as, um...hmm...an Alco store? A True Value? I think one of the guys from Bonanza went to Sul Ross University, the college here, which locals sarcastically call Harvard on the Hill. I think they actually offer a major in Ropin'. But yeah, Dan Blocker.

Got his masters in drama here. Oh, and Arlo Guthrie (son of Woodie, grey-headed longhair, devourer of marijuana and mushrooms) once played the Railroad Blues bar, but demanded that nobody smoke. I asked my mom if there was anything I was forgetting, and all she could think of was that we may have had a minor league baseball team here many years ago.


I'm living with my parents again, moving into a room that greeted me with far too many scented Yankee candles and paintings of flowers on the walls. My stepdad constantly watches Fox News - won't watch any other news - but I'm eating far better than I deserve. If we talk about Iraq, it's seriously like we're talking about two completely different things. There's not even enough common ground to debate.

All over town there are signs posted in front yards that say SUPPORT THE TROOPS. LET THEM WIN!!

Yeah, two exclamation points on that last bit. I like to pretend that the signmaker(s) actually had to spend some time debating the perfect number. "One? Hmm, not enough, but three might be overkill. Better just to settle on two. That seems reasonable."

I'm considering writing a letter to the editor asking them exactly what we will win. I'm hoping it's our national dignity back, but since we can't blow the shit out of something for that, I figure that won't be the answer.

Why can't we support a victory over ambiguity and sloganeering? And also, sure, everybody's loves winning and hates losing, but isn't it also how you play the game? Why not post signs that say something like "GENEVA CONVENTIONS. LET THEM BE FOLLOWED!!"


But yeah, I digress. This is supposed to be about me, not politics.


I, a graduate of Texas Tech University, graduated with honors with a degree in Electronic Media and Communications. This qualifies me (barely I think) for my current job as...

...a ditch-digger. More precisely, I install septic tanks. Yeah, where waste (could have gone with all sorts of juvenalia here, but I tastefully refrain...for now) goes. It's hard labor, usually with a hand constantly on a shovel, a tape measure or piece of pipe waiting to be glued.

I certainly am unable to use anything I learned in college. But at the same time, I feel like I am gaining an education perhaps more valuable, one that brings with it useful and simple concepts of hard work, humility, concise communication, and on a side note, a greater appreciation for the outdoors. I mean seriously, who would have known I could have been a fan of the outdoors? I always considered myself an indoor kid. Damn, maybe I should have checked it out sooner.

We've been working in places like Study Butte, Terlingua and Lajitas, deep south of Texas...There is certainly something to be said for the wordless awe of the sheer geologic majesty of rock jutting out of the earth 6000 feet high, with white patches of salt deposits still lingering from the fact that it was once all under the ocean. I like to pretend that the air above highway 118 split by our vehicles was once an ocean depth split by sharks...after all, shark teeth are abundant here, especially around the tops of anthills, where the little bastards have brought up the dental evidence while making their elaborate tunnels.


Getting in better shape, gaining an understanding of beerdrinking with co-workers after a long day...these are things I like. Sometimes, as in the other weekend in Marfa, I am confronted with the concept of...hmm, maybe I'd call it shame or something, I'm not sure...but when asked, "So, what do you do?" by a not-unattractive female, I hesitate before boldly announcing, "I install septic tanks." If they grimace, I like to follow it up with, "Oh yeah, and I live with my parents."

That always makes them even more fascinated in me. I can tell.


I awake every morning to the television in the living room blaring Fox and Friends, the only show hosted by people that, honestly, if I had nothing left to lose in this world (i.e. I wouldn't feel guilty for going to prison/dying and leaving friends/family behind), would actually murder.

But that's dark. I had hoped there would be some hope in this blog. Or at least some hopeful twist on my current status. All I know is that I'm not unhappy. I miss friends from Lubbock. I do. And I'm not one to really admit, even to myself, that I need people. After years of considering myself a lover of solitude, I am ready to admit that maybe I'm a little restless with solitude.

My life is work, sleep, work, sleep, read, sleep, work. That "read" is valued ever more for its dwindled opportunities.


Oh, and in conclusion, besides the septic tank installing job, I have a job on the side with my mom. Yes, my own Mommy Dearest. We mow lawns. No shit. And she has a serious, legit job with the government - ICE, to be exact, ICE being Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

I call our little venture Mama's Boy Mowin'. We do good work.


Damn! How could I forget this? For those that know me as a bespectacled cynic in love with music, air conditioning, and watching b-movies while under the influence, you might be surprised to know that I've been driving one of these:



It's true. One of my first days on the job involved me driving that up a mountain to a job site. I also was wearing a cowboy hat and boots. That being said, my boss is a bit of an extravagant spender, so we have XM radio in the tractor. So, while I was driving this damn thing, I was able to listen to Morrissey's "Every Day is Like Sunday," which left me, possibly quite egotistically, with the notion that such a scenario had never quite occurred before. I mean really, how many people listen to mopey British dudes while driving a backhoe on the way to dig a 6-foot deep hole in which to put a septic tank?


Of course, immediately following Morrissey, I found and listened to a Creedence song. I basked in the feeling of appropriateness.