It was depressing, this real world. Living in it was not unlike being surrounded by Facebook friends. No honor. All for one but not one for all. Supposedly, playing sports had prepared Jerry Lennart for the real world. Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. Had Jerry really wanted to prepare himself for the real …
Author: wastedpilgrim
I'm a writer.
Blogs. Novels. Journalism. Songs.
It's all I know how to do well.
A Tale of Two (Lawn) Tractors
Yesterday was a regularly scheduled mowing, and just as Johnny Yuma, who was a rebel, wandered along, I wandered around, and while my ramblings were more predictable in route, they did involve unexpected pauses. I started out on one lawn tractor – they used to be called riding lawn mowers until riders became slightly more …
Facebook Friends, Part One
The world is changing / Always rearranging / From birth to the end / With my Facebook friends. It’s not that Jerry Lennart was against Facebook. He spent a goodly amount of wasted time on it. It wasn’t that it was worse than Twitter or whatever new flavor inevitably followed. It was that word that …
What We Have in Common
Last night I watched an HBO documentary on the life of former Texas governor Ann Richards. Then I opened a book of Eudora Welty short stories and read “Why I Live at the P.O.”, which I’ve loved since I first read it at age fifteen or so. This morning I watched another HBO special, Billy …
Slapping the Dash*
*Don’t worry. The title just sounds dirty. You may cautiously proceed. I’m drained. I’ve been writing all day. The 24th chapter of my fourth novel – there’s a third that’s mostly completed but sitting aside for now – went down today, though I tinkered with it all weekend. The whole story is entertaining, or, …
A Comedy of Errors
In a small town, it’s impossible to avoid people you don’t want to see. There may be many more annoying people in cities, but this decreases the intensity of annoyance in each individual. Here in the sticks, there are people you really don’t want to see. You hear the voice echoing down the supermarket …
If the Good Lord’s Willing
Here's the entire short story I've been writing for the past week or two. It's based on a song I wrote called "If the Good Lord's Willing (and the Creek Don't Rise)": There wasn’t anything wrong with Red Hawthorn that a couple eggs couldn’t fix, or, at the very least, help. He got up Friday morning …
If the Good Lord’s Willing, Part Six
Here’s the concluding episode of my latest short story. A good time was had by all, Red amiably sharing the stage with Bobby Willard and the Unborn Calves, mixing and matching his songs with theirs, singing a little harmony when they ventured beyond his comfort level with some Skynyrd or Tom Petty. Red could …
If the Good Lord’s Willing, Part Five
Here’s the fifth installment in a short story derived from one of my songs. “This’ll be as good a way to get this started as any,” Red said, and picked the intro to “Folsom Prison Blues” on his Martin. Bum-bum-bum-BUHM-BUHM-bum-bum-buuummm… Wade took the cue and started brushing up the snare. Todd and Joey teamed …
Where’d It Go?
I was up this morning at a little past seven. I fixed breakfast. I washed dishes. I paid bills. I talked with my mother for about an hour when she came over. I wrote a while. About an hour ago, I lunched on peanut-butter crackers, mixed nuts and Diet Coke. I played my guitar for …
Nightrider's Lament 