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A Short Dispatch From the Edge of Civilization
The Mayberry Chronicles continue
I had several possible articles planned for this morning, at least one of which requires actual research rather than just my usual blathering on off the top of my head. That plan, however, was derailed because although I have been steadily moving stuff (so much stuff) from my apartment in DFW to my stepdad’s place in East Texas, I have yet to set up my writing desk (an awesome roll top desk that my mom left me).
Normally, having to perch on the living room couch while my stepdad watches The Price is Right at full volume isn’t an issue; I’ve learned to tune that out over the past 18 months (except for the Final Showcase; I have to know who wins). Today, however, some of his octogenarian friends are visiting, both to go through the mountain of clothes my mom kept for some unknown reason and to feed us a pot of beans and cornbread. I could drive to the local diner and work there, but they brought beans and cornbread.
My more serious writing plans thwarted for the moment by a combined 250 years of life chattering away about events from 1958, I decided instead to give a brief update on things here in Mayberry. They are, in a word, slow. That’s not a criticism; one of the best things about escaping the 8 million people jammed into the Metroplex is the ability to…
