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Nightrider's Lament

"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)

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Category: Life

A Letter to the Young Me

On May 5, 2015May 5, 2015 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

Dear Tug, It’s just the name Dad calls you. Him and Roy Walker. What you call Roy, Pride, isn’t going to stick, either. Nicknames are going to get boring. By the time you reach, well, your age now, most nicknames are going to be related to your last name. Dut, for instance. You’re going to …

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Alone Amid the Loneliness

On October 21, 2014October 21, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn Life2 Comments

Lots of folks are lonely. They’ve been left behind by modernity. They’re too old to peck away at the portable devices. They wish life could be simple again. On Monday, I’d been writing all day and hadn’t even left the house. I went to Wendy’s for supper because I didn’t want it to take much …

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Who’d’ve Thunk?

On October 10, 2014October 13, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn Life3 Comments

I grew up with Granddaddy Dutton and Papa Davis, and Granny Dutton and Mama Davis. It was always Daddy, never Dad. Mommy was replaced by Mom at puberty. Succeeding generations have added such innovations as Pawpaw, Meemaw, and Mawmaw. I’m sure they existed somewhere, but not around here. Meemaw. It’s a modern term, at least …

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Upon Further Review …

On October 3, 2014October 3, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

Until I did it occasionally a year ago and regularly this year, I hadn’t written about a high school football game in more than fifteen years. Back then, I thought myself quite the whiz kid. I could keep running accounts of the game and cumulative totals at the same time. Then I could talk to …

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Customer Service

On September 22, 2014September 22, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn Life10 Comments

Today I hope to unify my novel. No, I’m not going to compare elements of two manuscripts and somehow integrate them. It’s just that I have thirty-eight chapters of the Forgive Us Our Trespasses manuscript in the sinews of a laptop presently located at the Best Buy in Spartanburg and chapters, well, here. I bought …

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A Sticking Key

On September 16, 2014September 16, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn Life1 Comment

I’m grateful for this Sony laptop. It’s lasted longer than any of my previous writing apparati. The wear and tear of writing about distant events took its toll on a Dell, a Toshiba, and another brand whose name escapes me now. I’ve also been a writer – a sportswriter for most of that time – …

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Try, Try Again

On September 8, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

I’m taking a break. I’ve been working on the thirty-eighth chapter of the first draft of a novel about an evil politician and a good cop who have known each other all their lives. It’s slowed as it nears its end. When last I left Denny Frawley, he was debating the incumbent governor and this …

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Peeking Outside

On August 17, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

Man, oh, man. My life has changed. For twenty years, I flew about fifty thousand miles in each, writing about stock car races all over the country. On Friday, I will walk onto a plane for the first time since November 2012. I used to write columns. Now I write blogs. I used to write …

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What’s in It for Me?

On August 14, 2014August 14, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

On my other blog, at montedutton.com, I struck a chord this week.I think it was a G, but it might have been an E-minor.Two weeks ago, I wrote a NASCAR blog about Dale Earnhardt Jr. About eight hundred people read it. On Sunday, I wrote a blog about the incident in upstate New York involving …

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Fate and Rationalization

On August 12, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

  The Weather Channel reports that there’s an eighty percent chance of rain. One channel away, Weather Nation claims it’s forty. Today is Alexis Smith day at Turner Classic Movies. I don’t particularly want to watch Alexis Smith. Prudence calls for putting off the lawn mowing till the morrow. It’s all about me. Some days, …

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