Logger, Hippie, Biker. VFW. Fourth Generation Oregon.

Single Parent, Proud Grand-Parent, Master of Science, Gnostic.

The High Desert is my Home, I’ll never be “Homeless”.

What a long, strange trip it’s been.

As product of mid-fifties promiscuous pregnancy and sixties serial southern California divorce,  I am of a Unique Generation. My parents didn’t do me any favors, there’s no silver spoon stickin’ out of my ass.

I grew up on The High Cascade huntin’ and fishin’, fightin and fuckin’, and pretty much mindin’ my own damned business. Had a gun when I was eight, a pony at ten; was ridin’ line on a cattle ranch at fifteen, just me and a couple of horses, a couple of dogs, a bunch of cows and a whole lot of high desert sky. My dad, uncles, grand-dads were all VFW, as am I; worked in the woods, in the sawmill or out on the ranch, as have I. I’m pretty sure the whole family – hell, the whole town of Gilchrest, maybe even all of Klamath County- voted for Ike, twice. I would have. Grew up with pretty strong American – Western American – values, I think; grew up in a country, a culture, fearing

Nothing But Fear Itself.

The only thing that’s changed down through the years is the color of my hair.

When did we become such a nation of squaws?

I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I’m in the fucking drawer.

“The answer is never the answer. What’s really interesting is the mystery.”

‘Yer either wit us, er you’re agin’ us.

Whose side are you on?