Once I turned over a rock and a snake poked his head out of a hole under it. I think it was a coral snake. I’m not sure because I didn’t wait to ask him his national origins.
Another time I was fishing in the waters of a river that had overflowed its banks. Tiny islands of land protruded from the water, so I took off my shoes, rolled up my pants legs and waded out to one. The better to entice a big bass, you see.
There were several rocks on this tiny land protrusion. After several fruitless casts of my rod and reel, for some reason, I picked up one of those rocks and there was a critter underneath.
I reached for another rock to send him to wherever scorpions go where they die. There were three scorpions under that rock. Evidently, they were taking refuge from the rising water. Continue reading
When I got out of college, I worked a while for a small town newspaper. The county authorities wanted to build a new jail since ours had been built around the turn of the century.
I got the job of writing an article that would tilt taxpayers towards supporting a new jail.
So I visited the local hoosgow and found it a pretty bleak place. I noticed that someone had scrawled in the plaster of one wall, “Otis was here.” Otis was one of the policemen of our small town. I didn’t know if it was him or Otis of Andy of Mayberry.
If I didn’t have the conviction before, I knew for sure after that visit, that I only wanted to see that sad place and not be locked up there. I seemed to remember that our photographer took my picture staring out between the bars. I wish I still had it. My grandkids would be impressed.
My Time In Jail
You know what, though? I’ve been there in life; I’ve gotten so mad about some things that when I finally wised up and tried to escape my anger, I couldn’t do it.
I was in anger jail. Continue reading
Check out the podcast at the end of this article: Romance!
Depending on your perspective, one of the joys or curses of growing up down South was country music. You couldn’t escape its influence.
Daddy used to listen to the Grand Ole Opry Saturday nights on the radio, which wasn’t too bad when I was four. You can stand almost anything at that age. Later, when I was in college, you basically chose your camp: ‘goat-roper music’ or ‘rock and roll.’
Church music was basically gospel, southern gospel (which was kind of a hybrid gospel/ country) or hymns. That’s the world that was.