Thoughts and essays from the overactive imagination of an infrequently published author of Western novels, short stories, poems and songs, and the romantic dreamer of dreams ...
Born in Bozeman, Montana, when it was a haven for cowboys and earthy people, left before it became a haven for the rich snob and the yuppy. Lived in Virginia when it was farm country still smelling of black powder smoke from the War Between the States, left before it became a crowded extension of Washington, D.C. Lived in Shelley, Idaho, when it was an innocent, sheltered little burg, before its schools caught up to the nation in punk hairdo's, nose and eyebrow rings. I've been a security guard, driver for Wells Fargo, Armored, police officer, forest fighter fighter (BLM), Fish and Game employee, and now firefighter. I have a wife and four kids. And a friend of mine just reminded me how important it really is to have good friends. Don't ever forget to tell them you love them.
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