New Old Timers
Back in the old days when life was simpler, you could spend a few hours on a warm Sunday afternoon, swapping stories, or reminiscing about younger times and better places fondly remembered. Such were the times of John Henry and Henry John, sitting on an old grain box, savoring a few moments of friendship and idle storytelling. Who can tell what it was that they were talking about?
I guess it was here that my imagination for story telling took hold. It's not so much the story that is important, although that helps, but rather the comradeship of the people sharing that brings the greatest reward.
So I gather my audience together, imaginary or otherwise, sit down at my keyboard and start spinning tales - sometimes true and sometimes the biggest lies I can conjure up. When I am done, I feel I've accomplished something.