There’s nothing in the news that I have enough emotional energy to write about, so I’ll turn this space over to Slim Randles, author of many humorous books and his syndicated newspaper column, Home Country. It’s so nice of him to share his columns with us here, as well as readers of newspapers across the U.S., and he has such a wonderful way of bringing the folks from the Mule Barn Truck Stop to life.
Making a character connect to a reader on that deep, human level entails a lot of hard work, as I can attest to, and it’s obvious that Slim knows the craft and puts in the time. During the many years he’s been sharing the stories with me, from the time years ago when I was the managing editor of a community online magazine to the years he’s been on my blog, these men and women he writes about are like friends I’d like to have a cup of coffee with.
So I think I will, and you’re invited to join us today.
“Well,” said Steve, the tall cowboy, “at least it’s Friday and we all have the weekend to look forward to.”
Doc glanced up from his paper at the philosophy counter of the Mule Barn truck stop and world dilemma think tank.
“Fastest Friday you’ll ever experience, Steve,” said Doc.
“That’s about right,” said Dud.
Steve got that confounded look on his face. “What do you mean by that?”
“Today is Saturday.”
“Well,” Steve said, shaking his head, “that flat wrecks this day all to pieces.”
“Hey,” said Dud, “it’s a pretty day. You have all day long to enjoy it.”
“But don’t you see?” Steve said, in real pain. “I was planning to spend all day Friday getting ready for Saturday and now I can’t.”
“Now that sounds kinda dumb,” Dud said, “and I realize that, but Steve does have a point. I mean, we think in terms of time …”
Doc groaned.
“ … yea, verily … time and space and the continuum thereof, henceforth and forevermore. That’s why, when our friend Steve here thought about Saturday, it was as though Saturday lay in the future, where things are to happen that we, as mere mortals, are loath to know…”
“Dud,” said Steve, “you been watching Nova again?”
Dud blushed. “It was a good show. It concerned the string theory and fusion and the way all these marvelous things come together to make up our lives and Einstein and the total something-or-other. I forget all the little stuff, but it was pretty good. Had to do with the Big Bang and all that junk. Do you realize that when you look at a star at night, it might not be there? That star might have blown up and died a million years ago.”
“So how can you tell if it’s still there?” Steve asked.
“Have no idea,” Dud said.
Steve grinned and tossed down the last of his coffee.
“Well, I’d better be getting along. I’m running late as it is.”
“So what you up to today, Steve?” said Doc.
“Getting ready for Sunday.”
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Brought to you by The Long Dark, which was first published in 1985 by Alaska Northwest Books
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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.
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That’s all from me for today folks. Do come back on Friday for a review of Up From Hell, a story about combating drug infiltration at the southern border of Texas and Mexico. Until then, be safe. Be happy. Be kind.