Monuments are absolutely a product of human nature.  Big pyramids in Egypt or lapel buttons awarded by civic clubs, we make monuments.  Some of the biggest ones "fray" a bit, as the pyramids that have lost their polished outer layer, continuing through history as huge rough slabs, overwhelmingly big.  But whatever their size, once they enter our minds, they sit like jurors in a jury-box, judging everything our minds produce or imagine.

In this blog, I intend to share with you (read, remember, respond, publish) the monuments that you and I use to find our way in the sometimes mapless daily adventures.  Feel free to toss one in!

Even the monuments we leave in the closet still sit in the jury-box.

First example:  in my study closet is a parchment-like diploma from the University of Texas Medical School in Galveston, 1896.  Signed by the officials, with small taped pages attached showing the steps of being licensed and approved for the practice of medicine in Texas.

Striking acheivements for a young man from Moscow, Texas.  Educated at the Masonic Academy in Moscow,  then Galveston, with internship at Southern Pacific Hospital in Houston, surgical residency at Oschner Hospital in New Orleans, he was a product of the Deep East Texas Big Thicket and the modern (of the time) medical science.

The parchment is rolled and carefully stored, but the monument is in my mind as a challenge:  have I yet accomplished what my grandfather accomplished?   His race started at a different line than mine, but the mini-monument in my mind has a question etched:  "Keeping up?"

I've got others to share.  So do you.

Let's see where the conversation goes.