A Farewell to One of the Men in Full

(Monte Dutton photo)

Clinton, South Carolina, Friday, July 14, 2017, 11:08 a.m.

I paid modest respects to my line coach today. Not much is there to prove it. I signed the register and nodded at the people who were staking out their seats in the Friendship AME Church sanctuary. Three fourths of the seats were roped off. Harold Williams passed through lots of hearts and minds. He passed through mine as I looked at his remains, peaceful but frail for a man who was a mountain for most of the 46 years I knew him.

Monte Dutton

In the parking lot, before I left, I talked for a while with old acquaintances. It was hot, but I could remain still and not perspire. If I wiggled one pinky finger, I perspired.

I only called him Harold for about his last 10 years. It was always Coach Williams until one time, quite unexpectedly, he told me there was no need to call him “Coach” anymore since he didn’t coach and I didn’t play. I told him I never played much, and he laughed.

Harold laughed a lot. He never called me Monte. He called me “Moddie.”

Moddie, sit down. I want to ask you something.

He never revealed much about his own opinions. For some reason, he enjoyed knowing mine. I guess it was because I’m a writer, and it’s hard to write without making opinions known, particularly in fiction and the wild edge of journalism, columns and blogs, for which I have been most often celebrated.

My opinions usually satisfied him. They always amused him.

Harold was not a second father, but I knew him longer than my father, who died when I was 35. I knew Harold when I was 13. Do the math. For much of that period, he was a rock. A distant rock, but a rock.

Harold Williams (Kim Williams-Carter photo)

In his prime, Harold could almost have hurled a baseball from the church where his body lie to Bell Street, the school where local black youths graduated until Clinton High School opened its doors to them. That’s when I came in. Bell Street was the junior high school where I first played football. Now the high school is almost new. My high school is the middle school. I played football for Harold. I wrote about the boys’ basketball teams Harold coached. I wrote about football played by his son, Hal. I wrote, as recently as this year, about the basketball and football played by his grandson, Jalen Carter.

Harold knew the value of simplicity. He believed that if a man did what he was supposed to do, it didn’t matter much what others did to oppose him. His basketball philosophy was simple. Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to try to stop it. If we do what we do right, you won’t. He didn’t care much for the element of surprise. He cared for the power of execution.

This made him a perfect assistant for the rigid football leadership of Keith Richardson, who made every player, every coach, and every social-studies student aware of exactly what he required. Richardson had little use for variability in his virtues. He didn’t believe in luck. He didn’t believe in breaks. He didn’t believe in chance. Fumbles occurred because kids failed to protect the football. Recoveries occurred because kids were ready when other kids didn’t. The most futile offering a kid could make to Richardson was an excuse. We all learned not to go there.

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

 

All the great men who worked together in the pursuit of Clinton High School athletic excellence were stubborn in their commitment to it. R.P. Wilder. Keith Richardson. Andy B. Young. Harold Williams. Bill Rhodes. Bobby Brock. Connie Hodges. Sam Moore. Dozens of others.

Richardson could be an actor, though he most certainly isn’t. He achieved as much with his expressions as Spencer Tracy. Harold and Bill could have been stage actors. Neither ever needed amplification. They were all men of considerable humor, when they were of a mind. Richardson chuckled a lot. When he laughed hard, he made little sound. Harold and Bill could awaken Rip Van Winkle with their thunderous voice boxes.

(Monte Dutton photo)

Once, when I missed a portion of football practice so that I could attend the funeral of a family friend, the preacher requested a moment of silence at Rosemont Cemetery, a half mile or so from the lowland where the CHS practice field was located. In the silence, I could heard Rhodes’ voice, booming away at some hapless sophomore, clear as thunder rolling on the horizon. As my head was bowed, I couldn’t see the lightning strike.

As I looked down at Harold’s lifeless visage, perfectly at peace, I remembered the time a classmate named Freddie Payne tried to sneak away to the showers without completing the after-practice wind sprints that some transgression required. I could see us all trudging into the locker room, beneath the sign that said “Pride of Clinton,” and hearing Harold’s voice, booming away from far behind.

“Come on back, Freddie! Come on back!”

Freddie went back, but he didn’t last much longer. Harold couldn’t yell at him all the time.

He was a good man. I’ve heard Coach Young call him “a good school man.” A good wife survives. A good family spreads out from him, all bright, educated, and wise.

A good town spreads out from him because he and his colleagues turned so many boys into men. I am, at best, merely a modest example.

 

 

 

 

(Steven Novak design)

Ever since I started writing fiction, fans have asked me to write a novel about stock car racing. I kept it a secret while I was working on it. Now it’s out. Lightning in a Bottle is the story of the next big thing, 18-year-old Barrie Jarman.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced. Lightning in a Bottle will be in stock shortly.

Signed copies of Lightning in a Bottle are also available at Emma Jane’s, 105 East Main Street on the Square, Clinton.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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.

(Joe Font cover design)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

Same Old Stories, Time After Time

(Monte Dutton photos)

Clinton, South Carolina, Thursday, June 1, 2017, 9:53 a.m.

On Sunday night (and into Monday morning), I sat in a box high above Charlotte Motor Speedway and wrote about the world’s longest stock car race.

By Monte Dutton

On Wednesday night, I sat on the front row of the Clinton High School gymnasium – officially, it’s known as the Clinton High School Gymnasium – and took notes on graduation. I almost wrote “commencement,” but, of course, it’s not, and graduation sounds so much better than “termination.” “Concluding” might work.

Here’s the story on graduation at golaurens.com.

What do a NASCAR race and a high school graduation have in common?

Nothing. I’ll strain, though.

While teams pull stock cars out on the grid, the Indianapolis 500 is on the video board.

In Concord, N.C., where the track named Charlotte actually is, lots of the kids – and being young enough to be a kid makes one as eligible to drive a race car as kick a football – were home-schooled in the liberal arts of reciting sponsors and talking points.

The racing was unruly, though not as much as some fans wanted.

The graduation was organized and civilized. At the beginning, the student body president, Ashi Smith, set some ground rules, and one of her points was that she didn’t want any uncouth parents ruining everything for their graduation. Mainly the parents behaved, but some could not restrain themselves from yelling something like “woot-woot” when their young’un’s name was called.

“Yeah, that’s my baby!”

“Sshhhhhhhhhhhh.”

“I’m awful sorry, y’all.”

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

Back in Charlotte, in the wee hours after marathon racing, Kyle Busch had been so put out by having to settle for second place that he went all churlish, conducted a glowering media conference of six ever-loving words – “I’m not surprised about anything. Congratulations” – and used his ability to transmit laser beams from his eyes to prevent anyone else from asking another question.

Had the manchild been in Clinton – and had more of a defense for the child part – the appropriate action would have been to have him write 100 times on the chalkboard:

I’m not surprised about anything. Congratulations.

I’m not surprised about anything. Congratulations.

I’m not surprised about anything. Congratulations.

I’m not surprised about anything. Congratulations. …

Except, of course, that I don’t think they actually make students write on the chalkboard after school anymore. They may not even have chalkboards, or if they have boards, they probably don’t have chalk. No one gets paddled, particularly not bare-assed.

I’m not going to be like others my age and bemoan the fact that kids don’t have to write on the board and be paddled. I wasn’t in favor of it when I was a kid. I’m glad they’ve gotten civilized.

Stock car racing? Not so much.

Ever since I started writing fiction, fans have asked me to write a novel about stock car racing. I kept it a secret while I was working on it. Now it’s out. Lightning in a Bottle is the story of the next big thing, 18-year-old Barrie Jarman.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced. Lightning in a Bottle will be in stock shortly.

Signed copies of Lightning in a Bottle are also available at Emma Jane’s, 105 East Main Street on the Square, Clinton.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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.

(Joe Font cover design)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

Big Red Gets Devilish in Soccer

Luke Mann (6) scored the first Clinton goal. (Monte Dutton photos)

Clinton, South Carolina, Wednesday, May 3, 2017, 9:52 a.m.

Red Devil soccer has developed gradually over the years. I was away, writing oddly about race cars that go around and around, for most of its history, but it has been my theory that Clinton High School added a soccer program at just about the time sporting goods manufacturers stopped making blocked-off shoes for straight-on football kicking.

By Monte Dutton

From time immemorial until the end of the 1980s, Red Devil football had exactly one soccer-style placekicker, and the reason I am so attuned to this phenomenon is that the sidewinder in question, in 1978 and 1979, was my brother, Brack, who also played cornerback in the latter year’s Shrine Bowl. Have you ever noticed how seldom it is that a placekicker plays another position nowadays?

What I’m suggesting is that the motives might have been slightly mixed when a soccer team representing District 56 finally took the field.

On Tuesday evening, amid conditions that were almost perfect, Clinton won a Class 3A soccer playoff game for the first time … ever. All I was there to write was this. I took a few photos during the first half and then retired to the sidelines, there to complain about the officiating and be swept up in partisan fervor.

The score was Clinton (11-11) 3, Chester (8-9) 2. The Red Devils will go to Walhalla, an outpost on the far side of Clemson from here, for another match on Thursday night.

Here comes Parker Duncan.

Luke Mann, whose father once played football with me; Parker Duncan, son of our Congressman; and Elvis Fitz, who coincidentally kicked field goals and extra points for the football team last fall; scored the goals. The Red Devils outshot the Cyclones, 20-12.

Clinton took a 1-0 lead on Mann’s goal. Then it was 1-1. Then Clinton took the lead again. And Chester tied it. Duncan’s game-winner occurred in the 71st minute, three after Chester’s Jeffery Gulish scored.

At the time, things looked ghoulish. I couldn’t resist.

Duncan’s game-winner led 30 parents of Cyclones to yell aloud something like “oh, fiddlesticks!” and something less wholesome under their breaths, and about 50 Red Devil fans to exult in much the same fashion. The tone was markedly different.

Clinton: “Damned if we didn’t score! He got it! He got it! Who was it? Parker Duncan! Woo-hoo! Go, Parker!”

Chester: “Day-ummm.”

Duncan, whose thirst for the net is as great as his father’s political ambition, also had an assist, as did Jesus Gonzalez and Patrick Nelson.

If one is standing on a sideline, surrounded by others among the faithful, listening to jeers rising from the little wooden grandstand where the other team’s pilgrims have set up camp, reality gets distorted.

It was as if the officials were willing participants in a seedy attempt by the visitors to brutalize the local lads. Fans were howling for mandatory incarceration, no parole, and all the refs had to offer was a single, solitary yellow card. I even went so far as to suggest one of the co-conspirators might need an update in the prescription for his spectacles. Oh, wait. The ref wasn’t wearing glasses. Contact lenses, undoubtedy. Something was distorting his view.

Many of the fans were quite knowledgeable about the game, no doubt a result of carrying kids all over the Upstate to play club soccer for “select” teams.

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

If Clinton should win at Walhalla against the Razorbacks – it seems particularly unique a nickname for soccer – then I’m told they will play Berea, the Greenville school that is, according to a reliable source standing next to me, the No. 28 team in the nation.

I’ve got my share of problems, but I’m glad I haven’t been tasked at trying to figure out the top 50 high school soccer teams in America. Lots of variables, I’m thinking.

Ever since I started writing fiction, fans have asked me to write a novel about stock car racing. I kept it a secret while I was working on it. Now it’s out. Lightning in a Bottle is the story of the next big thing, 18-year-old Barrie Jarman.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced. Lightning in a Bottle will be in stock shortly.

Signed copies of Lightning in a Bottle are also available at Emma Jane’s, 105 East Main Street on the Square, Clinton.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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.

(Joe Font cover design)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

 

Misty, Water-Colored Memories of the Way We Were

(Monte Dutton photos)

Clinton, South Carolina, Friday, March 31, 2017, 9:30 a.m.

I know Laurens County fairly well, having lived here almost all my life. The first banquet of the Laurens County Sports Hall of Fame was right down my alley, having put in many a day’s touch-typing on the subject of Laurens County sports.

By Monte Dutton

Of the eight inductees, the only one I had never met was Chrissy Floyd, the Laurens basketball player who performed most of her magic while I was away trying in vain to keep up with cars going around and around. I talked to her on the phone over a month ago. She was gracious. Everyone was gracious. It’s probably hard not to be gracious when home folks realize officially how great one is.

Take a close look at every day, and something unique occurs. On Thursday night, my unique experience was listening to my words being used as narration by another voice. The stories I’d written for the program were used for introductory greetings of each inductee. I’m sure the words sounded better than if I’d said them, but it just felt slightly weird, sitting out in the audience, finding myself tempted to lip-synch. Maybe it was like an actor who can’t carry a tune, having to have his voice replaced in the musical numbers. Maybe this happened to me before, but I can’t remember it.

King Dixon

With one exception, I knew these people.

My mother told me tales of King Dixon, who played for the old Laurens Tigers (now Raiders) when my father was a Clinton Red Devil. Dixon and his mates whipped Clinton five years in a row – yes, he played in the eighth grade – and my father never talked much about it. Sixty years ago, and a man who starred in football and life still attaches great significance to never losing to Clinton. This, of course, led a couple of Clinton’s finest to allow as how, son of a gun, they never lost to Laurens.

Chick Galloway’s granddaughter represented him.

Chick Galloway died when I was 11. Cally Gault, another PC man – male graduates of Presbyterian College are prone to espouse that synonym of virtue, “the PC man” – recalled Galloway, hitting him grounders while Gault was playing baseball at PC.

That was in 1948.

What I remember of Galloway is that he was a stately man, who commonly wore bowties and who shook my little hand while my father told me he had been “one of the best shortstops there ever was.” Galloway’s big-league career ended prematurely in 1928, when, standing near the cage, a wild pitch in batting practice hit him in the head, ending his career.

Cally Gault

Coach Gault almost spans my life. He moved back here when I was five. Occasionally, I was a ball boy but mostly I watched the Blue Hose play from the area behind the wooden stands in the Johnson Field end zone where kids were allowed to wad up paper cups and pretend they were footballs. It’s funny. When I was 10, he was “Cally.” I can see him now, stalking the sidelines, wearing a blue pullover with “PRESBYTERIAN” in embroidered garnet, similar to what Ara Parseghian wore on Notre Dame sidelines at the time, giving the zebras a hard time. Cally coached the Blue Hose, but he was a bulldog.

Kevin Long

When I first met Kevin Long, he was working for my dad. I was in the ninth grade when Kevin was a senior, and long before the television show, Clinton High School had SNL: (Robert) Scott, (Charles) Norman and (Kevin Long). In Clinton, they might as well be Tinker to Evers to Chance.

J.D. Fuller

J.D. Fuller starred at noseguard for two Red Devil state champions, and my brother Brack was his teammate on one of them. Like Long, Fuller starred for the South Carolina Gamecocks. Noseguards have roared out of Clinton like BMWs out of Greer, but Fuller was the first one chosen as a county hall of famer. Cross Hill is a small place, but the people there ought to hire J.D. as goodwill ambassador.

Chrissy Floyd

Three Red Devils: Long, Fuller and their coach (and mine), Keith Richardson. Two Raiders and a Tiger from Laurens: Barry Atkinson, Dixon and Floyd. Three Gamecocks: Long, Fuller and Dixon. One (Clemson) Tiger: Floyd. Three Blue Hose: Galloway, Gault and Richardson. One woman: Floyd. Five played and coached football: Dixon, Gault, Fuller, Long and Richardson. One baseball player: Galloway. One basketball player: Floyd. One who treated them all: Atkinson.

Barry Atkinson at what he does best.

“Coach” Atkinson mainly fixes. He’s been the Laurens District High School athletic trainer since the budget mainly consisted of ice, tape and “atomic balm.” If there were a Mount Rushmore for memory, Barry would be on it. He can recite most of the Gospel According to Yogi Berra and sprinkle it with a one-liner from General Douglas MacArthur, all while assessing the range of motion in a bum left ankle.

Keith Richardson

At the end, by virtue of the alphabet, was Richardson, whose high school coaching prowess is as legendary in Clinton as Vince Lombardi’s in Green Bay. Hardly anyone who played for him ever calls him Keith, least of all I. In my many travels, I called Earnhardt Dale, Gant Harry (pronounced “hurry”), Waltrip D.W. and Tony Stewart things that I deign not to disclose here. I once called Bob Knight “Bobby” and actually survived.

Richardson? He’s “Coach.” He wouldn’t mind it if I called him Keith, but I probably wouldn’t be able to go to sleep that night.

“How you doing?” ask at least three quarters of all the people one encounters. Most reply “fine.” A few say, “It’s all good.”

John Avery

That’s what the banquet was: all good. No one felt slighted. No one thought anyone went on too long. Most of the jokes got laughs and all of them chuckles. John Avery mastered the ceremonies. The slides flashing across the screen behind the honorees were nostalgic and compelling.

I’m not a big banquet fan. I dreaded dress shoes and didn’t wear a tie. I wore a sweater to hide the wrinkles in my shirt.

I didn’t want to leave when this one was over, though. Here’s what I wrote last night before bedtime.

Ever since I started writing fiction, fans have asked me to write a novel about stock car racing. I kept it a secret while I was working on it. Now it’s out. Lightning in a Bottle is the story of the next big thing, 18-year-old Barrie Jarman..

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced. Lightning in a Bottle will be in stock shortly.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

When I Get Across the Desert, I’ll Look for an Oasis

(Photo by Sean Gardner/Getty Images)

Clinton, South Carolina, Sunday, February 12, 2016, 5:42 p.m.

This is really a question I ought to be able to answer, but I don’t live and die on the minutiae as much as I used to, and, surprisingly, I couldn’t find much by googling and the like. Sometimes I bing. Sometimes I just type a phrase where the web address goes. Sometimes I just don’t go through the trouble so that, if I’m lucky, I can fall for some fake news.

By Monte Dutton

Why is the Daytona 500 three weeks after the Super Bowl? Am I alone in watching the end of the NFL’s day of commercials with a football game scattered about, and thinking to myself, Self, now it’s time for racing!

Three weeks. I can write 20,000 words in a novel in three weeks. I can read a novel and write a review. I can write a song, though, apparently, not memorize it. I can watch a zillion old movies. Take a weekend trip.

Still, it’s almost dark, and the Daytona 500 is still two weeks away.

Nothing against Honeysuckle Rose – I hadn’t watched it in a while – but I wish I had an ARCA 200 or something. As my father used to say when he picked me up at the Broadway Theatre and took a little nip from the half pint under the seat, “I need a little something to knock the chill off.”

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

With the official start of the season still two weeks away – yes, I know, there’s a Clash, no, wait, it’s an Unlimited, perversely, it seems, because the field is limited – I feel like I’m staggering into it the way I stagger into this house late at night since the garage light burned out.

In February, there’s always a bit of a draft in the Daytona Beach air. (John Clark photo)

I’m vaguely aware that the mad scientists at the NASCAR R&D castle have issued some new alchemy to turn the racing into gold. The format has been changed in many ways, which, at this point, is about as predictable as a line outside Cameron Indoor Stadium on the day the Tar Heels visit.

At the moment, it seems as if more baseball players are warming up than racing drivers.

I wanted to pivot to racing, and pivoting is about as difficult for me as it is for President Trump. It’s all he can do to avoid being whistled for traveling.

Jimmie Johnson (John Clark photo)

It all seemed so orderly. Commiserate the death of football. Cheer up for racing. Grow happy when baseball starts, too. Get all the other writing – the stuff I make up – done in regular business hours so I can devote my full attention to the stock car races and Red Sox Baseball on NESN.

Hell, last year, it was probably a month before I got annoyed at Darrell Waltrip.

They’ve put segments in all the races, which means every race is like the All-Star Race, so what in hell is the All-Star Race going to be? Two segments racing backwards, and let them go frontwards but with the cars on fire for the final 10?

I read the stories. I tried to watch the cheerleaders talk about it on TV. I haven’t concentrated, though. It generally just makes me more pissed off. When the season gets here – if the season gets here – I’ll hear it explained so many times, it’ll remind me of those awful power-point presentations at the office, when I had an office.

Maybe keeping the slate relatively blank isn’t a bad plan. I can go in fresh.

No, I can’t. I’m going to hate it. Maybe I won’t hate it as much. Maybe I’ll watch the 500 and think, Well, it’s not that bad. It’s still mostly racing. Maybe I won’t give it a chance, but I’ll try to give it a chance. I’m human. It’s all I can promise.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

There Were Commercials?

(Monte Dutton photo)

Clinton, South Carolina, Monday, February 6, 2017, 1:03 p.m.

Football began in the heat of summer, watching high-school teams play seven-on-seven games of catch.

It ended last night with New England’s 34-28 verdict over Atlanta in Super Bowl LI. LI is the Roman numeral for 51. It takes a big event to rate a Roman numeral. It’s not Game VII of the World Series. Nor is it Week XIX at the local dirt track, or Race VIII of the NASCAR, uh, playoffs (nee Chase).

By Monte Dutton

This game was unprecedented because (a.) it took overtime to settle, (b.) the Falcons led by 28 points late in the third quarter, and (c.) Tom Brady won it for the fifth time.

It was also unprecented because, for the first time, I ate nothing in an entire day but pizza. I’m not going to continue the Pizza Diet, which it most certainly was not. Already today, I’ve had eggs.

So that’s one positive that emerged from the Falcons’ crash.

In the second quarter, some were comparing Brady with Peyton Manning’s performance last year. In overtime, they were still comparing the two, only the means had changed from “time to retire” to “greatest ever.”

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A similar switch – “Dan Quinn is outcoaching Bill Belichick” to “Quinn blew the game” – also occurred during the same time span.

Immediacy continues to get more and more ridiculous.

New England has a 1.3 percent chance of winning.

New England now has a 19.3 percent chance of winning.

New England now has a 38.7 percent chance of winning.

New England now has a 51.1 percent chance of winning.

New England won.

Peyton Manning left Tom Brady alone at the top. (Monte Dutton sketch)

Fortunately, all the players are well-paid. Otherwise, they might have decided to stop playing and go buy scratch-offs.

The Super Bowl was a complete success, mourning of Falcons fans notwithstanding. Both teams beat the commercials. The biggest surprise wasn’t the comeback. It was the number of people on social media who claimed they’d rather endure gastric distress at halftime than endure Lady Gaga, then admitted they were wrong and she put on quite a show.

I’ve always disliked the name of American football’s biggest game. Super Bowl just seems undignified. It lacks the gravitas of World Series, or even Great American Race. Superman. The Super Ball, made by Wham-O! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.

Even though the sound of this particular game was often quite precocious.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

The Grind Gets Better

Into the Smokies on the way home. (Monte Dutton photos)

Clinton, South Carolina, Tuesday, January 31, 2017, 10:58 a.m.

Let’s see. Today is the last day of the month, which means a download of my fourth novel, Forgive Us Our Trespasses, will no longer be 99 cents. Good news and bad news. I won’t sell as many in February, but I’ll make more money on the ones I do. The idea behind Amazon’s 99 cents specials is that they give the book a boost. It’s already sold the most of my five novels. I should probably write another like it.

By Monte Dutton

Maybe I am. It’s not finished.

Tonight Newberry is visiting Clinton for a big night of high school basketball, and I’ll be on hand to write about it and take a few pictures. The Red Devils clobbered Mid-Carolina while I was away. Newberry is only 25 miles away. The two schools played in most every sport even before they were both aligned in Region 3-3A. They split earlier games, both in Newberry, but the overtime loss was in a holiday tournament, and Clinton won the one that counted. Tonight’s will, too. The Red Devils have an undefeated region record on the line.

Mike Reynolds

I’m just getting reacclimated with the world. I spent most of four days avoiding all that was going on around me. I checked the Twitter feed occasionally. I watched the second half of Kansas-Kentucky on a TV in a Kentucky bar where I couldn’t find anyone who didn’t hate Louisville. The Jayhawks won, and that probably increased sales while the Mike Reynolds Band rocked the night away.

I don’t party much anymore. As best I can tell, I came out of it relatively intact.

The trip: (a.) increased my interest in writing songs and drawing sketches; (b.) lessened my sense of disappointent; (c.) provided me with sustenance and inspiration; (d.) got me out of town; (e.) satisfied a growing wanderlust; and (f.) gave me a chance to play a lot of music and listen to a lot more.

I’m sure I could think of several more, but this blog isn’t for money, and I’ve got to get to some things that are.

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

This week is the Super Bowl. I assume, sometime recently, there has been a Pro Bowl. I watched a little of the Rolex 24 over the weekend, mostly with the sound off, and I tried for a while to find the ending, but I am not adept at surfing the program guide of Dish Network, so I watched Virginia-Villanova, again with the sound off.

The Falcons are playing the Patriots in the Super Bowl. The only other time the Falcons reached the Super Bowl, I watched in a condo in Ormond Beach, Florida. All I remember is that it wasn’t much of a game. One year while I was in Florida early for Speedweeks, the Patriots played the Eagles in Jacksonville, so, when I went to see some friends play music in St. Augustine Beach, the bar was full of NFL fans. I wore a Red Sox cap because, well, I wear one a lot. When I got in there, it seemed as if everyone knew me. Some people were slapping me on the back; others just looked at me with scorn and derision. It hadn’t occurred me that a Boston cap would get me lumped in with the Patriots.

This shouldn’t have been so hard to figure out.

I’ve rooted for the Red Sox since I was seven years old, but it all started with Carl Yastrzemski, not Boston. For that particular Super Bowl, which the Patriots won, I just wanted to see a good game.

That’s about the way I feel about this one.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

Most of the Family Still Bleeds Orange

Hold those Tigers! (Monte Dutton photo)

Clinton, South Carolina, Tuesday, January 10, 2017, 12:52 p.m.

I can’t say for sure they’re dancing in the streets today, but I’m fairly certain they were dancing in the aisles of Raymond James Stadium in Tampa last night. My nephew, Ray Phillips, and his wife, Jessica, may have cut a rug. Now they’re fighting traffic on the way home because there’s a heap of Clemson fans headed back this way.

I watched the Tigers’ 35-31, last-second (literally) victory over Alabama at home, awash in the excitement of the national championship game of the great sport of college football but lacking the pressure that comes with being a Clemson graduate, as Ray and Jessica are.

By Monte Dutton

When Ray was younger, he and I went to see the Tigers play in a couple of Peach Bowls (versus Auburn and Tennessee) and a something-or-other bowl in Orlando, Florida, against Colorado. He was good company for several Furman playoff games, too, but once he saw those big crowds and all that orange, I knew there wasn’t any way he was going to follow Uncle Monte to Furman.

I’d be tempted to say “his loss,” but I’m not in much position to make that claim at the moment.

Ray graduated from Clemson with a nice, sensible degree in business, or accounting, or one of those other disciplines that make money and bore me, and then he earned a grant that led him to a master’s degree from the University of Alabama, the Tigers’ opponent in the last two title extravaganzas. Alabama won, 45-40, last year.

Ray and Jessica, a nurse, have two gorgeous kids, three-year-old Thomas Montgomery Phillips and four-month-old Margaret Tinsley Phillips. They planned to have little Margaret with them, staring out at the pageantry with eyes both wondering and wandering, but they found out that even an infant had to pay full price to get in, so I think they made arrangements for Margaret to stay back at the house they rented with friends while Ray and Jessica, and, I suppose, their friends, cheered themselves hoarse and came back with feet firmly planted on top of the whole wide world.

My first college football game matched Clemson and Alabama, too, but I had to wait until I was nine and it didn’t turn out so well. My chief memory is of walking right past Bear Bryant on the field afterwards and thinking he might possibly part the Red Sea if it was nearby.

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

I also saw Clemson play Alabama during my senior year of high school. After I played on Friday night, we all took off the next morning for Tuscaloosa with bumper stickers on the back of my grandfather’s Cadillac that read: Clemson-Alabama — The Day the Tide Died.

I remember: (1.) the first two times Clemson punted, Alabama blocked them, (2.) the final score was Tide 58, Tigers 0, and (3.) I got mad at other Clemson fans berating Clemson’s quarterback in the grandstands.

That awful night had something to do with me going to Furman, and I don’t regret it, but at the time, it was quite a surprise to anyone who knew me.

It’s quite possible that, in the privacy of my living room, last night’s game was the most I rooted for Clemson since that night in Tuscaloosa, with George Wallace watching from his wheelchair and announcing before the game that Denny Stadium would be renamed Bryant-Denny Stadium.

I’m happy for the Tigers. I’m hungry for the Paladins’ resurgence. I’ve got a hankering to go somewhere myself, and I’m liable to do it here directly. Things have about played out around here.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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. Note that my fourth, and best selling, novel, Forgive Us Our Trespasses, is on Kindle sale at $.99 through December 31. 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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

How to Make the Big Four Bigger

(Monte Dutton photo)

Clinton, South Carolina, Tuesday, January 3, 2017, 11:54 a.m.

As I am not noted for moderation, please forgive me this one indiscretion. I am aware that Barry Goldwater said, “I would remind you that extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice! And let me remind you also that moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue!”

I happen to agree with the 1964 Republican nominee for president. I disagree with a lot of the late senator’s sayings and policies, but I expect his words will reverberate for at least the next four years and that Goldwater would despise Donald Trump just as he did Richard Nixon.

By Monte Dutton

I can’t speak for him, though. I just read a book about him. And he’s dead.

Far be it from me to write a blog that does not include three paragraphs that will provide great Facebook titillation and more interest than the remainder.

Back to the original premise. Where this morning’s primary topic is concerned, I favor moderation.

That topic, of course, is college football. College football is dear to the hearts of South Carolinians, never more so than at present because the Clemson Tigers are about to face the Alabama Crimson Tide for the national championship, and it’s the second time in a row, consecutively straight.

Sometimes redundancy is intentional, though it may never be intelligent.

Even this year, when, unquestionably, the teams playing for the national championship are the ones who belong there, in Tampa, at an NFL stadium that has a gigantic, simulated galleon aground in one end zone and looks mildly like it is otherwise surrounded by condos. I expect the Tide and the Tigers could beat any other team, similarly staffed by scholars, in America. Pitt cashed in its lottery against Clemson in the regular season, but that has been thoroughly dispelled as an anomaly by empirical evidence since.

In spite of this, a somewhat more tepid cry has arisen for the advent of a larger playoff, often proposed as consisting of eight. It’s unlikely to happen right way, as there are documents crafted by lawyers, funded by large corporate entities, and signed by everyone from the presidents of multiple universities to the student volunteers who tighten the facemasks.

My background is in the idealistic realm of the smaller schools that have contested championships on the field for many decades.

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

Until Monday, the bowls, those aging outposts of the college football kingdom, were rather moribund. The Big Four – I’d name them if there weren’t too many corporate sponsors to look up – were not what what they once were, but they were as good once as they ever were. (Toby Keith wrote it with Scotty Emerick.)

But my God. North Texas played in a bowl after finishing the “regular” season at 5-7. North Texas! I’ve driven by that school’s stadium many times, even wanted to see a game there, but that school is mainly noted for its adroitness in graduating many of the country’s great beauty queens.

Ah. North Texas will play in a bowl if there are TV dollars to send them there.

As far as determining, each year, the one true national champion, I would: (a.) eliminate conference championship games, (b.) play all the bowls, from Heart of Dallas through Music City and the Belk at the mall, to Rose, Orange, Sugar, Fiesta, Cotton and Peach, and, then, (c.) determine a final four in much the way it is done now.

When two of the nation’s finer student-athletes decide that playing with their buds, compadres and brothers with different mothers is less important than staying healthy for the National Football League, something is definitely wrong.

Supposedly, the idea behind conference championship games, besides facilitating some order in conferences that probably deserve their own congressional seats, is to winnow down the contenders for the BCSHLDB – that’s Bowl Championship Series that Has Little to Do with Bowls – and Ohio State’s inclusion this year in spite of failing to meet such a standard renders such games at least silly if not completely obsolete.

Get rid of them. The money will still be there, probably in even more decadent profusion.

Then pick four, just like at the lottery counter.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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. Note that my fourth, and best selling, novel, Forgive Us Our Trespasses, is on Kindle sale at $.99 through December 31. 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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).

Homer Jordan, Number E (the negative was flipped), the Count of Monte Carlo and hero of Clemson’s national championship season 35 years ago. (Monte Dutton photo)

The Tide Rolls and the Tigers Fight, Tigers (Fight, Fight)

Clemson led the way out of 2016. (Monte Dutton photo)

Clinton, South Carolina, Sunday, January 1, 2017, 10:11 a.m.

I was up early on New Year’s. I wanted to catch it before the sun came up. Not too early, though, I expect I was asleep by the time of its first watch tick, let alone the tock.

Clemson’s gaudy victory in the national college football semifinals left me happy for my nephew Ray Phillips and his wife, Jessica, both graduates, and their children, Thomas and Margaret. Thomas, 3, has some idea of the importance. Margaret, who is in her fifth month, is vaguely cognizant of Mommy and Daddy being very, very happy.

By Monte Dutton

Ray, by the way, has an undergraduate degree from Clemson and an M.B.A. from Alabama. He told me he likes Alabama. On January 9, though, I don’t think he’d mind if the Tigers won convincingly. I don’t think he’d mind if Bama fell with a Buckeye-like thud.

Neither of Saturday’s losers, Washington and Ohio State, were left wondering what might have been.

I’m a Furman graduate. I don’t allow myself to get as excited about Clemson, or, for that matter, South Carolina, as I am about Furman, or, for that matter, Presbyterian College here in town.

Being more excited about Furman and Presbyterian than Clemson is difficult right now. However, the Paladins’ basketball team did overrun The Citadel’s cadets at Timmons Arena on Saturday. When the Paladins beat the Bulldogs in anything, it makes me feel as if Athens just repulsed Sparta.

Complete Supply of Ink and Toner Cartridges

As of 7 p.m. on Saturday, my thinking was, Nobody’s gonna beat Alabama.

As of 11 p.m. on Saturday, my thinking was, Clemson might just beat Alabama.

I expect I wasn’t alone in this migration of thought. The electronic age has shifted our senses of reality. Truth was once determined after all was said and done. Now what’s truth one minute may be falsehood the next. Still, however outmoded it is, I expect it is only fair that the Tigers and Crimson Tide be allowed to play the game.

If nothing else, the national semifiinals were useful in creating a facade of good cheer amid dire predictions for the new year that belt us like a hurricane.

(Steven Novak cover design)

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. They’re all signed and reasonably priced.

(Jennifer Skutelsky cover design)

If you’d like me to ship you a signed copy, you can find my address and instructions here. If you want to speed the process up, send me a note and I’ll hook you up with my PayPal account.

(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)
(Cover design by Jennifer Skutelsky)

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. Note that my fourth, and best selling, novel, Forgive Us Our Trespasses, is on Kindle sale at $.99 through December 31. 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 a tale about a crooked politician who wants to be governor, whatever it takes, and another man trying to stop him. It’s outrageous.(Melanie Ryon cover design)

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.

(Crystal Lynn cover photo)
(Crystal Lynn cover photo)

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).