Is there really any need for April Fools Day? I mean, really, what’s the point? I spent Monday, an exceedingly dreary day, thinking about possible hoaxes I could goodnaturedly foist upon the unsuspecting public. Guess what? No one in the public is unsuspecting anymore. They already suspect the president of being a socialist, a Muslim …
Furlough Blues, Part Two
This continuing short story originated in a song of mine: Jerry Lowndes could have been doing many things had he immediately rolled up his sleeves and gone to work, making proposals of free-lance stories he could write, or arranging for some sort of loan to get him by, but any comprehensive plan for relief required …
It’s A Happy Crazy
Many years ago, it was my job to produce interviews with the members of a championship high school football team. I talked to every member of the team, and the interviews ran as fillers on the local station during the week leading up to the state championship game. When I asked one player what he …
Furlough Blues, Part One
This is yet another short story that originates in one of my songs. When Jerry Lowndes checked his email, he discovered that his book on the heroes of the Atlantic Coast Conference wasn’t quite the blockbuster he had hoped. He had hoped the book would provide some aid in fulfilling his daughter’s wish to transfer …
A Nice Break From Desolation
He’d have never wanted anyone to know it, but, yeah, Jack Pinson was drinking, even though it wasn’t even noon on Tuesday, when he got a text message from Hank McGonigald. Hank wanted to get together and have lunch the next time Pinson swung through Atlanta. I hate to fucking tell you, Hank, but I …
I Got Cash Money
This story, also based on a song of mine, is very short. Harvey Phelan was stranded magnificently, holed up in the last place he’d expect to be on Thanksgiving. As best he could tell, the body of water outside the window was called Alton Bay. The little village about a half mile away was either …
Stuck In A Rut
About four years ago, I wrote a song called "Stuck in a Rut." A couple weeks ago, I decided to expand it into a short story. I wrote it and posted it in seven installments. Here's the whole story of Josie Swenson and Tripp Fallaw, at least for a week. It was a Thursday, but …
Stuck In A Rut, Final Part (7)
Yes. This all began with a song. I’m well beyond its boundaries now. “Josie, I want you to look at these fuckin’ … vehicles,” Tripp Fallaw said as they arrived at the country club. “Shit.” Josie was world-weary, cynical, burnt-out, and, of course, high. They said, Uncle Jed, it’s the place you oughtta be, so …
Stuck In A Rut, Part Six
Our heroine, Josie, inhales the culture shock of Los Angeles and holds it in. Josie Swenson spent Tuesday in a medicated fog, medicated being a popular cliché for using marijuana where it could be had for a prescription card and a song. Tripp and Wade said they had to “hone” their games, which meant they …
A Regular Fats Domino
I think I’m walking to New Orleans. I’m walking to New Orleans … Not really. I hardly walk to my mailbox. I’m driving to New Orleans, and I hope to make some stops along the way, and, quite possibly, the way back. I’m going to Texas with my guitar, not my banjo, in my back …
Nightrider's Lament 