Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, September 6, 2018, 1:15 p.m.
Not much of me has been literary in recent days.
Oh, there has been beauty in my world.
The Red Sox’ seven-run eighth-inning rally and Brandon Phillips’ ninth-inning home run against the Braves was, as Dennis Eckersley is fond of saying on TV, “a beautiful thing.”
Yesterday I shot a video on, of all things, football games while standing in front of Horseshoe Falls on the Enoree River. The games involved Laurens County teams, but that side of the river is either in Union or Spartanburg county. I’m not sure which. They come together right about there.
I just took a break to play my guitar. I’ve already edited several obituaries, advanced the Touchdown Club meeting and written a NASCAR column. I deserved to play Roger Miller songs for 15 minutes. “Dang Me.” “Kansas City Star.” That and figuring out a song by New Riders of the Purple Sage.
I reckon there’s probably some beauty in purple sage.
Last week I bought some new sneakers, so I didn’t have to make a decision about whether or not I was going to buy Nikes. I don’t have any to burn. I’ve just never had luck with Nikes. The last pair I liked were given me by a track coach nearly 40 years ago. They were silver and lavender. At that time, I wouldn’t have dared do anything but run in them. It’s obvious how long ago it was because I then ran.
That was not as fate would have it, and I like the Skechers.
Soon I’m going to buy a kind of camera that has probably, sometime, somewhere, somehow been used to take a photograph of Colin Kaepernick.
Bottom line: I’m buying a camera. I bought some shoes.
Another way I cobble out a living is with my books, a wide variety of which is available for sale here.
The new novel, my eighth, is called Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.
Lightning in a Bottle is now available in an audio version, narrated by Jay Harper.