Before I turn the blog over to Slim Randles, who’s here as today’s Wednesday’s Guest, I want to give a shout out to one of my sister’s who’s celebrating a birthday today. She’s two years older than me, so she’s officially older than dirt. Parse that one out a bit. LOL
I love that picture of my sis. She looks so happy and has a terrific scarf. I won’t be able to be at the big party to celebrate a special birthday, but I will be there in spirit. And I’ll have some cake of my own. You can join me if you want. Virtual cake never runs out.
Now here’s Slim and the guys down at the Mule Barn Truck Stop. Enjoy…
“Oh bury me not,” Herb sang, “on the lone prairie…”
“You’re in a fine mood this morning, Herb. Pass me the hot sauce, will you ?” said Doc. “Thanks.”
Doc thought a second. “You feeling okay, guy?”
Herb shrugged. “Sure, Doc.”
“How about the rest of you?”
We all nodded. “I’m good too,” said Steve, which wasn’t always a given in his case.
“Well,” said our pal who sports more degrees than a thermometer, “I suppose it’s this virus that has us thinking about death. I hate it. In normal times, when do we ever think of funerals and burial and all that? Never, really. But now …”
“I know one thing for sure, Doc,” said Dud. “If you keep putting all that hot sauce on your eggs, we’ll be digging a hole for you sooner than we planned.”
That started the laughing, but it also started us thinking, which can occasionally verge on the dangerous.
“There’s always cremation,” said Steve.
“Yep,” Windy chimed in. “Goin’ up to Oregon, Steve?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Well, they got this yere Tillamooky Rock Lighthouse there. Named it after that Tillamooky cheese I perspect,” Windy said. “Filled that sucker up with burned-up bodies. Mebbe so your body would be okay with them guys. But you gotta burn up first. Just ashes in a can or something.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nossir, Doc, it’s a pre-imaginated fact fer shore. Lighthousey-type folks say there’s over 467,000 burned-up folks in there already.”
Steve shook his head. “Not for me, Windy. Don’t like crowds.”
“Well then,” said Windy, “there’s outfits that kin dump you in the ocean, or bury you on the lone prairie. And if you don’t have a sleepin’ bag, they’ll sell you one. And if you don’t want one, you kin just git … buried, ya know?”
Doc nodded. “Cheaper than a casket, Steve.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “Lone prairie sounds better to me. How’s the view?”
Brought to you by the lone prairie folks at www.facebook.com/naturalburialnm/
Check out all of Slim’s award-winning books at his Goodreads Page and in better bookstores and bunkhouses throughout the free world.
All of the posts here are from his syndicated column, Home Country that is read in hundreds of newspapers across the country. I am always happy to have him share his wit and wisdom here.
Slim Randles is a veteran newspaperman, hunting guide, cowboy and dog musher. He was a feature writer and columnist for The Anchorage Daily News for 10 years and guided hunters in the Alaska Range and the Talkeetna Mountains. A resident of New Mexico now for more than 30 years, Randles is the prize-winning author of a dozen books, and is host of two podcasts and a television program.
This is also the last day to enter the Booksweeps contest I’m sponsoring with some other mystery writers: the Crime Fiction & Thrillers BookBub Follower Giveaway Contest.
This is a chance to win a new e-reader, either a Nook or a Kindle, and 30 new books to satisfy your reading pleasure. This time, I’m sponsoring with Open Season, the first book in the Seasons Mystery Series.
CONTEST ENDS AT MIDNIGHT TONIGHT 3-24-2021