......or was it? All I have to say on this, is that it's a damn good thing the beating to death of the man in Shiner or Moulton or Hilljie or wherever the hell it was, didn't involve a white man beating a black man to death. Heaven forbid. Otherwise Trayvone Martin supporters and George Zimmerman and his backers, would be kissing their book deals and fifteen minutes of fame goodbye. The American public is quick to grab a liplock on the tit of the sensational story du jour.......aren't we? Miley who? Lindsay who? Bernie who? Adolph who? Lee Harvey who? Henry who?? Ford? Wolff? see, I tossed in a couple of good guys, for those paying attention, just to fuck with you.
Born on the bayou where Texas and Louisiana meet on the Gulf Coast. A kid in the '50s, so my heroes were Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, and Buddy Holly and Roy Orbison. Raised in a fishing village, ...Adrift, I grew up on boats and made my money as a kid the way kids in the '50s and '60s did - cutting lawns, throwing a paper and bagging groceries until I was big enough to work on a shrimpboat. Best job I ever had was piloting a ten ton crew boat, worst was probably chopping cotton. I have stood atop Mayan pyramids deep in the Yucatan jungles, and on the trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange. I am equally at home at a musical on Broadway, or a honky tonk full of shrimpers and tug boat hands. The best ten years of my life were spent in the '70s in Austin, Texas. The last thirty have been spent in the far western 'burbs of Houston working as a petro gypsy in the engineering business. I have had my share of adventures, several of which I probably shouldn't have survived. I am at age 58, the proud father of twelve and fourteen year old sons, so... Onward through the fog!