What Writers Do When They’re Bored

I took some time off from working on my next novel to get photos of the critters that have been hanging around the neighborhood this summer. It all began a few weeks ago when my wife and I spotted a litter of Fox kits in a neighbor’s yard. It was after dark and they were standing well off the road when the headlights caught them. A few days later, I was down at the road getting the mail when Blondie, my male Labrador, ran three baby coons up a tree. Then still later my neighbor, Tish Pierce called and said the coons were in her cherry tree having lunch. I figured it was time to break out the camera. So, these are some pics of the coons.

uh oh

Smile, he’s taking our picture.


Baby Coons























A couple nights ago my wife and I heard a strange sound just outside our bedroom window. It was around midnight and I thought perhaps something had caught a rabbit. Grabbing a flashlight, I went to check things out, figuring it was one of our cats that had caught something. When I rounded the corner of the house, the three, now much larger, fox kits had a neighbor’s cat surrounded. They scattered and the cat bolted across the yard and under a wood fence. End of that, I figured. Wrong!

I got back in bed only to hear a cat squalling under the same window twenty minutes later. Grabbing the flashlight, I again head out. This time I rounded the corner to find one of the foxes has returned and had our yellow tomcat “Tater Tot” backed against the wall of the house. The lone fox ran away and Tot all but jumped into my arms. I tossed him into the laundry room for the night and finally got some sleep.

The photo below of one of the young foxes a day later. He was resting at the edge of the woods in the neighbor’s backyard.

Young Fox in the Backyard

Road Rage Recipe

Road Rage Recipe


Why do you drive up an entrance ramp to an interstate highway with a posted speed limit of 70 MPH driving 35 MPH?

Why do you brake and slow to 35 MPH on an interstate highway several hundred yards prior to entering the quarter-mile long exit ramp?

Why do you sit and stare at a traffic signal that has just gone green for 5 seconds or more before going when there is no cross-traffic?

Why if you are texting at a traffic signal that goes green and I have to honk to get you to wake up and move, do you give me the finger?

Why are you freaking texting and driving?

Why, after sitting at a green traffic signal for 5-10 seconds do you floor it and speed to the next signal only to do the same damned thing?

Why do you ride on my bumper for miles and when you finally decide to go around give me the evil eye?

I am the last car in a long line of traffic in the left-hand lane—Why is it you can’t get behind me, but choose instead to come up the right-lane, edge over, and force your way in front of me?

Why do you run down a quarter-mile long line of backed-up traffic in the right-hand and get road rage when I refuse to let you over?

Why do you drive 15 to 20 miles per hour below the speed limit in the left-hand lane, spot a yellow traffic signal and accelerate, running it on red and leaving me sitting at the light?

Why do you drive along 5-10 MPH below the speed limit, but when I try to pass, you accelerate until we are both going sixty-five in a forty-five?

Why when I make my left-hand turn and proceed and you have a yield sign do you slam on your brakes and go road rage?

Why do you drive through grocery store/shopping center parking lots at 30 MPH and honk your horn in rage when some hapless sap is trying to back out of a parking spot?

Why, dumb-ass white boy, do you think I want to hear your stupid glass-pack mega-phone tailpipes sputtering down the road?

Why, dumb-ass hood-rat, do you think I want to hear your filthy bass rap lyrics booming everywhere you go?

Okay. I know how most of you are feeling right now. Chill. IT AIN’T WORTH IT! YCFS: You Can’t Fix Stupid. Most of these idiots would fail a sobriety test stone sober. They don’t get it. Grit your teeth. Drink a glass of your favorite beverage when you get home i.e. beer, wine, bourbon….and pray they don’t ever legalize the mounting of .30 cals or rocket launchers on our front fenders. We’ll all have adjoining cells at the funny farm and these idiots will still meekly inherit the earth.

“I don’t care what you say. That there’s funny.”  –Larry the Cable Guy

FYI: The next novel: Rawlins, has been pushed back to late summer or fall. Sweet Thang decided we had to remodel, the garden needed weeding, the car died and had to be replaced, the kids came into town with the new baby…..I could go on. My last best Beta-Reader is looking at it now, then it’s off to the editors.

The Sexual Revolution on Steroids

Sex, Politics and The Emmys…

Someone said the Emmy Award show the other night turned into a political-left mudslinging contest that even featured a cameo by that recurring bad dream Hillary Clinton. I actually expected as much and planned on ignoring it. It’s like going to the zoo, where you expect to smell the animal poop. And I must admit I missed Hillary because I had turned off the TV and gone to bed.

So, what was it that sent me to bed so early? It was something that leads me to believe we have entered the new and surreal world of an alternative reality. It was something much worse than the political prostitution by the artists, and it was on national television for our children and grandchildren to see. What is this “it” to which I refer?

Well, don’t get me wrong. I’m from the sixties generation. Remember? We were the ones who removed many of the taboos associated with sexual expression. But my lord! I believe we opened Pandora’s box instead. There were people right there on stage dry-humping one another as if it were acceptable civilized behavior. And there were also men and women alike pawing at their own genitals while singing songs with lyrics I wouldn’t want my wife or daughter to hear. What the mortal hell have we become as a people?

I am all for freedom of expression, but this crap is beyond the pale. I listen now with disgust to all this drivel about respecting women, and it must be drivel because it’s the same people promoting black dresses and white roses who are fawning over these so-called “artists” doing things on national television that gets kids arrested while on spring break. We teach generations to dance like mating animals and we then demand they respect one another’s gender. No wonder our children look at adults nowadays as if we’re three-eyed space aliens. They see the paradoxes and the double-standards, and they’re confused.

And that’s all I have to say about that. Thank you for enduring my rant. I think I’ll go now, and take my friend Evan Williams to my safe-place and read a good book.