Clinton, South Carolina, Friday, November 11, 2016, 12 p.m.
Things still aren’t back to normal in these parts.
The election is over, but Facebook is still as mean as a rattlesnake. (My analogy to a rattlesnake may be because True Grit, the original, is on TV right now.)
I’ve been “unfriending” intermittently all week, mostly because Trump partisans demanded it. They will abide no dissent. Others I dismissed because something they posted was just too harsh for my tastes. I’ve never unfriended anyone because their beliefs differed from mine, but I expect a certain amount of civility, even on social media.
I can’t speak for the nation, but I think one reason people have become so ornery around here is that there’s no high school football tonight. Hurricane Matthew backed up everything for a week, and the Red Devils and the Cyclones, and the Raiders and the Wildcats, don’t open their respective playoffs, 3A and 5A, until November 18.
Basketball opens tonight, and, wonder of wonders, my alma mater, Furman, is visiting Templeton Center. The Blue Hose played an exhibition against Belmont Abbey nine days ago, and they won in quadruple-overtime, but it was the night of World Series Game 7 and mainly went unnoticed.
It hasn’t rained in a solid month. The last time I felt rain was a drizzle at Woodruff High School at the end of a junior varsity game. That was two weeks ago, but it didn’t rain here. Wild fires dot the mountains. According to The Weather Channel, there’s a 20 percent chance of rain Sunday and Monday. Oh, wait, I just checked again, and it’s 20 and 10. WeatherNation has it 10 and zero.
My shipment of the new novel arrived yesterday, and now signed copies are available at L&L Office Supply uptown in Clinton. I spent half of yesterday sending media releases to newspapers in the part of Texas where the story is centered. The Clinton Chronicle ran a nice story on Cowboys Come Home, and, I expect, the Laurens County Advertiser, too.
The Trump partisans are happy, probably the happiest they’ve ever been. I hope they’re right. I hope the country doesn’t go slap to hell, where it hasn’t been since the Civil War, but hell, too, is in the eye of the beholder, not to mention the beer holder. I haven’t toasted Trump’s victory. I don’t know whether it makes me want to drink more or less.
I’m not moving anywhere, not that it’s an issue. I couldn’t move to the next county right now.
Times change. For every action, there is a reaction. That’s the way it’s going to be right up to the point where time stops.
Stop by L&L Office Supply, 114 North Broad Street, Clinton and buy one of my novels. Buy Cowboys Come Home, Forgive Us Our Trespasses, Crazy of Natural Causes, The Intangibles, and/or a volume of my short stories, Longer Songs.
Kindle versions – you don’t have to have a Kindle, just a free app for your electronic devices – of most of my books are available here. Links to print copies are below.
Cowboys Come Home is my brand-new, fresh-off-the-press western, a tale of two World War II veterans of the Pacific who come back home to Texas, intent on resuming their cowboy ways.
Forgive Us Our Trespasses is the latest. It’s a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.
Crazy of Natural Causes is about the fall and rise of Chance Benford, a Kentucky football coach who reinvents himself. It’s original.
The Intangibles is about the South in the 1960s, complete with racial strife, bigotry, resentment, cultural exchange and, of course, high school football.
The Audacity of Dope is the tale of Riley Mansfield, a pot-smoking songwriter turned national hero with a taste for the former and a distaste for the latter.
Longer Songs is a collection of 11 short stories that all began in songs I wrote.
Follow me at Facebook (Monte.Dutton), Twitter (@montedutton), Google+ (MonteDuttonWriter) and/or Instagram (Tug50).