Wednesday, April 25, 2007


Woody was my first new friend in Harriman. We did not meet until after our junior year began. His dad owned a great little nursery across the highway from where we parked our trailer. Later, I got work at the nursery, very hard work that involved a shovel, a mattock, and “other implements of destruction” most days. The only worthwhile part of it, besides the $5 or so I made a week, was working a long side of Woody.

He was my age, very skinny, very fickle, undependable, and never seemed to buy his own cigarettes, but he and I connected on many levels. We both had a great work ethic and we loved music, cigarettes, guns, girls, and beer.

Woody was a philosopher of sorts, and contemplated the deeper things of life. He often quoted phrases and ideas from Khalil Gibran’s “The Prophet,” a collection of essays about the human condition.

Woody made the author’s view of love, marriage, eating and drinking, work, joy and sorrow, crime and punishment, laws, freedom, pain, friendship, time, good and evil, prayer, pleasure, religion, and death, among other things his own. By the end of that first year at the nursery, Woody had related almost every word of the book.

We talked endlessly, with me doing more of the listening, but even after work we would sit somewhere, puff cigarettes, and discuss countless things. He was Church of Christ and I was raised Baptist, so religion was often a topic which always ended in an argument. We finally learned to avoid the topic. It seems sometimes, that religion is good for nothing else.

Our favorite place to talk was in the “Green Bomb” which was his dad’s ’48 Chevy pickup. It was a classic with a strong straight six, three-on-the-tree, and it would run forever on $2 of gas – of course that was about eight gallons back then!

The only flaw in the “Green Bomb” was the passenger door that would suddenly swing open in the middle of a curve, but after the first time you learned to anticipated it. Many were the times I would swing out on that door with a hoot and a holler, banging on the outside panel, and swing back up in the seat as the road straightened out! The ease with which it opened came in handy when you wanted to “roll” a big dog!

We did not get permission to take her out as much as we liked, but we made up for it by stealing it! The truck was always parked on a hill and if you released the parking brake and pushed in the clutch it would quietly roll off and over the next hill. Woody would then turn the key, put it in second gear, pop the clutch, and we were off!

Once Woody’s mom and dad settled into watching TV in the living room, they rarely moved. So, on the return trip we simply doused the lights, killed the engine, and rolled the “Green Bomb” silently into its former position and stopped. I remember one night, just as we stopped; Woody’s dad came around the corner, from the back of the house and just said, “Howdy boys.”

We sucked in a breath of air and “howdied” him back, waiting for a lecture. As it turned out, he never knew what we had the truck out, just went on into the house.

Woody even dated in that old truck from time to time, which reminds me of a saying his brother-in-law had about girls that would date a guy in a truck! “If you can truck’em, you can _ _ _ _’em!” Believe me, that old adage was put to the test!

I loved that old truck and when I think back to my high school days, this truck stands out as that time’s icon. It was not a beauty, never turned girl’s heads, but took us everywhere we wanted and should not have gone. I can smell the musty dusty cab now, and feel my hand slam the glove compartment shut again for the tenth time on every trip.

Once we took it upon ourselves to teach Wayne, another friend, to drive a straight-shift. He did fine until he failed to negotiate a sharp curve and took out about six mailboxes! There was not a scratch on that old truck – they don’t mak’em like that anymore!

I bet, if I look outside just now, I can see ol’ Woody pulling up in the ol’ “Green Bomb” looking to bum a Winston.

Tuesday, April 24, 2007


Just before my sophomore year at Coffee High ended in Florence, Alabama, dad gave us the news that we would be moving to Harriman, Tennessee as soon as school was out. He had gotten transferred by TVA to the Kingston Steam Plant on the Tennessee River near Kingston, Tennessee.

This was the only time I remember moving that I did not have a girlfriend. In a way that might seem sad, but at least it was not near as sad as spending the remaining days pining over each other and looking deeply into each other’s eyes while explaining that you had " control over things, and besides we will stay in contact and meet up again someday soon." I suppose our young and tender hearts actually believed that or we have just run away somewhere and starved to death on the fruits of love!

The real pain of such partings came while looking back through a rear car window and slowly waving goodbye while mouthing, “I love you – I’ll write you” to the fading image of a little heart broken girl. All the time, I was trying to keep my emotions in check and hidden from my parents in the front seat. Besides, I was not speaking to them for ruining my entire life – again!

We had lived in Harriman before from the second part of the first grade in 1953 until the middle of my fourth year in 1956. Therefore, I had high expectations of knowing at least a few people when school started in the fall. However, I had to spend the entire spring and summer of ’62 without friends or at least that is what I expected.

Turns out I met “Jaybee Whale,” or that is what the neighborhood kids called him. His real name was Bennie, but we rarely called him that. He was and has always been “Jaybee” to me, and if you ask anyone in these parts about ol’ Jaybee, they know about whom you speak, since they will probably not remember his first name either!

The “Whale” part was added by someone because of his size, which was befitting an Our Gang character and official “He-man Women-haters Club" member! Truth be told, “Jaybee” did not have a lot of friends and played by himself in his basement most days.

“Jaybee” had an exclusive club himself and that was my first introduction to his world. Having been invited to visit the club in the basement, I found him to be a funny guy, not funny – funny, but very humorous, quick witted, and very talented. He was at least four years younger than I was, but he made me laugh frequently and we soon had comedy and model cars in common.

His passion was the model car demolition setup he had fashioned from plywood. If you had model cars, and I had plenty, then you would quickly be inducted into the “crash club” at “Jaybee Whale’s” demolition track! Guys all over the neighborhood showed up at the “demolition derby” once a week, having worked the rest of the week at reinforcing their plastic models to win the next “smash off!”

Anything went and nothing was illegal as long as the car was still the original model on the outside and had its original working wheels.

I soon learned to pour molten lead inside the front fenders and around the grille area, using aluminum foil as an insulating shield. Extra strips of plastic, like those long round pieces the pretty chromed parts came attached to worked well…just like 2'' reinforcing pipe used in real race cars. A whole tube of glue might be used in one “welding” session!

During the event, opponents ran their cars down two opposing eight-foot sheets of plywood and into each other at full speed…by the end of the tournament, owners would be using full-arm shoves to increase the speed to that necessary to crack the opponents car into splinters! What fun - juvenile yes, but loads of fun!
“Jaybee” and I were fast friends that summer and he kept me from being bored and lonely for those few weeks before school.

Soon, summer ended, school started, and as I got reacquainted with former classmates, I soon put the childish things aside. “Jaybee” must have been hurt when I began to ignore him for my older friends.

I never went to his basement again after the summer of ’62; however, as I passed by “Jaybee’s” house with a new friend or date, I would see him standing alone in his yard. I thought about the basement and even longed, at times, to be laughing again with him as our cars exploded into a hundred pieces – probably much like his heart did as he watched me pass.

1 Corinthians - 13:11. When I was a child, I spoke as a child; I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the things of a child.

Sunday, April 22, 2007


My sister-in-law, her husband, my wife, and I had a great time in Pine Mountain, GA this week, and we found it to be very beautiful and entertaining. We did a lot of hiking and motor touring of the garden area.

Naturally, the last cold snap damaged about 20% of the flowers, but there were still enough blooms to make the trip noteworthy! Many things, such as the rhododendron and smaller wildflowers have yet to bloom. The temperatures during the day were in the mid to high 70s with very low humidity. Excellent conditions for short hikes through the woods looking at the native and hybrid Azaleas, the Mountain Laurel and Rhododendron, as well as the usual small wildflowers found along hiking trails.

We really enjoyed the peaceful Ida Cason Callaway Memorial Chapel and the Callaway Brothers Azalea Bowl areas, but the Cecil B. Day Butterfly and John A. Sibley Horticultural Centers were also beautiful, as well as, educational.

The lodging at Mountain Creek Inn was very nice – comfortable, convenient, beautiful courtyards and private seating areas, a huge pool area, and all surrounded by the splendor of gardens.

We also had some good meals while we were there…particularly those at the Country Store & Restaurant and Cricket’s Restaurant! The Country Restaurant biscuits were perfect with muscadine jam and butter. Go to Mushy's Cookings to see a mighty fine steak!

Of course, Ron and I enjoyed the fact that the bar area had Sierra Nevada on tap, and Pizza Hut personal pan pizzas!

For larger file photos, I have posted some of my favorites on Flickr.

Monday, April 16, 2007


The firm (Smith Barney and friends) that handles my and my brother-in-law’s retirement fortunes provided us with free tickets to see James Gregory at the beautiful Tennessee Theatre Friday (the 13th) evening! We enjoyed a very nice meal at the Downtown Grille and Brewery prior to the comedy concert. Go over to Mushy’s Cookings, for a closer look!
Once inside the beautifully restored theather, beer in hand, we settled in for a great show. Judy and I had seen James some 15 years ago, but he was even funnier Friday evening. However, the old boy had put on about a hundred pounds!

The event was in support of the West Knoxville Rotary Club, who does a lot of charitable work in the area.

Should you get an opportunity to see James Gregory, we recommend you go. He is a hilariously funny Georgia boy and he does not curse at all…I think there was one damn…but people can be funny without using foul language.

Sunday, April 15, 2007


It had been sometime since any of us Knights had been to Bailey’s Sports Grille. So we took the opportunity for being in Knoxville, first to have the orthopedic clinic check out the finger he hurt playing basketball, and to have his oil vehicle’s oil changed to drop in for some “serious fun!

Technically, Corey is not a Knight since he has not declared his wife a dragon, but he will graduate someday! We always do!

Angelia was our waitress, and comes close to being our “Carla” as anyone since she does remember, most times, that we like Sierra Nevada on draft, and that Corey drinks at least a gallon of iced tea! She is very friendly and remembers to ask about any of our latest vacation adventures. We like to be treated as friends and not customers.

If you pop over to Mushy’s Cookings you will see our lunch selections for the day!

I have to point out that the wings were not good at all on Thursday. They were either dry or freezer burnt, and Angela encouraged me to discuss them with the manager. He volunteered to take them off my bill, although I was willing to pay. Bailey’s management does a great job at public relations and everyone appreciates them for it. I guarantee that if I get wings the next time, they will be juicy like they normally are!

Afterwards, Corey and I enjoyed a Cohiba while Ron puffed the usual Macanudo Maduro. Ron won the “look at the ash on that thing” contest!

Wednesday, April 11, 2007


Four of us (2 Dragons and 2 Knights) walked along the Sequoia Hills section of the Knoxville Dogwood Arts Trail today. The frost we have had the past three nights had burnt some of the flowers that were there a week ago, but there was still plenty to see. The homes along this area down near the beginnings of the Tennessee River are beautiful. Some have been there for years, some are new, and some are being renovated.

If you are somebody in Knoxville, you would probably want to live along this street, or at least on one of the nearby streets. Old money lives not too far from this area, and unless you are of “old money” you probably will not find anything available.

Not far up stream from here is the “downtown” area of Knoxville, Tennessee, and the marina where the “VOL Navy” anchors and parties during UT football games in the fall.

Running through the center of Sequoia Hills street is a running/walking path, and right in the center is an old Indian Burial Mound. There are also two or three little parks and other grassy areas near the river. You can find people playing Frisbee, running with their dogs, or just laying in the grass most days.

After a good loop walk, down Sequoia and then back down by the river, we left, went to the Riverside Tavern and had a wonderful lunch. It was a good day – a good day to be retired.

See more about the wonderful lunch we had, go over to Mushy’s Cookings.

Monday, April 09, 2007


Most of you know I love to hike and that I have missed several lately because of my shoulder operation. You also now how I hated that I missed one with Dragons just last week, so Friday I made up for it!

The eight of us, 4 Dragons and 4 Knights, hiked a portion of the Grand Gap Loop in the Brandy Creek area, of the Big South Fork National River and Recreational Area, near Oneida, Tennessee. I would bet you that the small animals have only started working their way back into the canyon area today. There was more cackling going on than in a flight of black crows! I actually stopped once to try and determine if what I was hearing back down the trail were crows or my wife and her three sisters!

The Knights had a tendency to move out ahead of the Dragons, not simply to get away from them so we could hear the wildlife, but because we are a little more seasoned at hiking. So, every now and then we would stop and wait for them get into view, before heading off again. The return trip ended up being, one Knight and one Dragon, for the most part, stopping frequently to rest and help each other up the ladders.

The goal was to make it to Fall Branch Falls, about 2 miles, before doubling back to the parking lot for a picnic. We were probably on the trail about three hours. There was a lot of rock formations to exam, some wildflowers, and, of course, the falls to photograph. The trail itself is fairly level, with two places where you have to descend ladders to transfer from a higher trail to a lower one.

The rocky outcrops took thousands of years to form and they were laid down in easily discernable strata, some being deposited in opposite directions. The water running round and over the formations cut many hydraulic holes and other designs in the various strata over the eons.

It was a good day, but the temperature on the cool side. It was perfect for the hike, but when we tried to settle in for some food and beer, we ate as if we were starved so we could get back in the vehicles and warm up!

Click on the shots above to see a larger view, and there are more photos at Flickr!

See ya on the trail!

Sunday, April 08, 2007


As I have posted before, it is funny how the Dragons congregate in one area while the Knights flop in another at family gatherings. It could be the level of the music, I don’t know! We have always liked it loud, but these days it is almost a necessity for us old dudes to hear the same licks we used too!

After eating baked ham, potato salad, baked beans, rolls and other great starches, we settled into the music room for some Dylan, G&R, Son Volt, Bowie, Smashing Pumpkins, Skynyrd and more! The intensity was enhanced by cold beers and a little local libation kicker called “cherry moonshine!

It’s a good way to sleep off a full stomach and get lost in your own little “headphone” world!

I thought the “moon” was very photogenic…don’t you?

Later, it was time for some juicy coconut cake for our sweet tooth.

Hope your holiday was as enjoyable as ours.

Wednesday, April 04, 2007


During the one summer we spent in Nashville my mom often dropped me off at Fair Park with change in my pocket. I was eleven years old with no fear of staying a few unsupervised hours in the park on my own. It was a day and time too that my mom had few worries about my safety.

The pocket change had to be rationed in order to do everything I wanted. I had to have a hotdog, later an ice cream cone, some cotton candy, and then take as many rides as I could get on the Skyliner. The Skyliner was a John Allen designed wooden roller coaster with steep climbs, bunny hops, and tight turns.

Sometimes, if I ran out of money, I would go over and search the area under the “Roll-O-Plane,” or as my dad called it, “the Bullet.” Riders were always losing their change or anything else from their pockets, as the ride sped and twisted around high above. You had to be quick though, and between rides, or the ride operator would yell at you!

Often times, I did nothing but ride the Skyliner. I loved the g-force in the turns and how it made my stomach seem to float during the downhill runs. I had always wanted to be a pilot and my heroes were super-human men like Chuck Yeager, or Scott Crossfield, Joe Walker, Bob Rushworth, Neil Armstrong, Bill Dana, or any of the fifteen pilots of the X-15. I read everything I could get my hands on about any of them.

I even loved and admired movie stars that played pilots, like John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart.

My strategy was always to get the front seat if possible. I was not one to sit in the back, raise my arms, and scream with all the girls. I wanted to be at the controls, to push her over into a steep strafing dive and them pull’er up at the last minute, release my bombs, and yank her into a hard right turn out of danger.

I loved to keep my forearms hard against my thighs, hands fast around the imaginary stick as the dive began, fighting to control my breathing, and then lean with the turn and look back over my right shoulder watching the ground come up fast. I was also alert for the enemy that might be on my six, ready to barrel roll in the opposite direction out of danger!

For those few minutes I was flying and the danger was real. I was Chuck, and I loved it!

The time to meet mom at the entrance came too fast and I was often tempted to take her down “the valley of the shadow of death” once more before leaving.

I loved being a boy and I loved being a kid – still do! I also miss the ol’ Skyliner.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007


Tonight I have a guest post - my sister-in-law (A.K.A. Dragon 5 (see below)) who was part of a hiking team today. I can’t believe they went without me, but I had two doctor’s appointments (one for me and one for my dog) and couldn’t make the hike or the frivolity that followed! Anyway, you’ll see that us Knights live with some crazy broads, who have more fun than should be allowed, and whom we love dearly.

See writes:

Okay, Okay, this duck enters a bar & orders a beer;
The bartender says, "that'll be $3;"
The duck says, "put it on my bill."

Get it? Put it on my bill. hahahahahaha

Okay, seriously folks - my husband Ron (who I will refer to as Ron hereafter), two of my sisters Judy & Terri, & I went on a 4 mile hike at Frozen Head State Park & Natural Area (shaking my cigar like Groucho Marx - there's nothing natural about this bunch). We chose an absolutely perfect spring day to view the wildflower offerings.
We decided to hike South Old Mac & Judge Branch Trails. Shortly after embarking on this 2 1/2 hour trek, we came upon a 3-foot black rat snake, sunning himself on a rock. We had stopped to admire the crested dwarf iris when Ron (my husband) spied the snake. Luckily, he only laid on the rock & didn't bother us so we took off immediately (the snake, not Ron). My two sisters decided the snake was better than a rat but if it was a rat snake guess what was on his breath, girls. We continued on our path enjoying May apples, several varieties of violets, squawroot, fiddlehead ferns, and several varieties of trillium, creeping phlox, wild geranium, jack-in-the-pulpit, deer shit, & various fungi.

The park was fairly empty on this beautiful Monday, which was fortunate since my sisters & I enjoy a good laugh quite often. Our biggest laugh came when Terri was fording a creek, slipped off a rock & plunged both feet into the icy water. She was wearing waterproof boots but they weren't very tall (the boots, not Terri who is not tall either). Terri likes to think she is a seasoned hiker but she's all wet. After the unfortunate incident in the creek, I had to give up my extra pair of dry socks so Terri would be comfortable the rest of the hike.

All along both sides of the trail, the wildflowers were blooming riotously. Spring this year has been beautiful in Tennessee. This is my first spring being retired - maybe that's why everything is beautiful. Oh God, now I have to break into song. “Everything is beautiful in it's own way...”

Ron taught us a lot today about the different species of flowers & how to walk with bended knees, kinda bouncy down hills to ease the strain on our knees. Of course, Judy had to exaggerate this new walk, which was quite attractive from behind.

As a reward for this long hike, we convened at the Mexican Restaurant in Harriman for beers, enchiladas, chips, salsa, burritos, rice, and refried beans (delicious).

Today's hike was a prelim to another hike we are taking on Friday at Big South Fork. I hope this hike will be as beautiful as the one we took today.


Seated on the rocks (from L to R) are three of the five Dragons (Dragon 5 (Neena the author), Dragon 2 (my wife Judy), and Dragon 4 (Terri).

Sunday, April 01, 2007


I do not often tell this story, just to close friends, and we have grown close over the past year or so, so you might as well know what kind of person Mushy is too.

It all began one day, back when I was last single, when I went to Wal-Mart to pick up some bachelor supplies – beer, wieners, peanut butter, bread, and chips, you know, the usual.

As I walked by this car, there sat a beautiful young thing on the passenger side near the path through the cars I had taken. She and I met eyes about the same moment and I started to look away, but something about her made me stare back. As I got near I spoke some stupid greeting, and to my surprise she spoke back. I lingered there a moment, trying to decide whether she was there with a guy or just a friend, when she began asking me questions about my car. I had a ’78 Trans Am at the time, and of course with its headers and cherry bombs, I probably rolled in pretty noisily.

She was so easy to talk to and before I knew it almost 30 minutes had passed, and the only real reason I wanted to move on was the fact that I had to pee real bad! I finally just flat asked if she was seeing anyone and she said no, so before I knew it had a date for the coming Friday night.

Before leaving, we exchanged names and she told me where she lived, but then I hurried on inside. Just as I reached the door I looked back and noticed a woman, probably her mother, getting into the car. This made me feel better and cleared my mind of the worry about whether or not she was there with some guy. There was still that concern though, about why she was not dating someone – young and pretty as she was and all – but she must just be between boy friends.

I made great plans in my head all week about what to do to show this beautiful girl a good time. Dinner, dancing, a movie, moonlight walk along the river, maybe push each other in the park swings in the shadows, man I just wanted it to be right.

Friday came and showed up at her house and her father met me at the front door and directed me into the living room.

We introduced ourselves and he explained that his daughter and wife were in her room putting on the final female touches. I chuckled and said I understood how those things go. I was a little nervous since there was an obvious age difference between the girl and me, but there was no hint of concern from her father and he soon put me at ease with small talk.

Just then, in came my gorgeous young date being pushed in a wheelchair by her mother. Before my eyes got too wide open and my mouth could fall completely open, I moved toward her and presented her with the small bouquet of flowers I had brought. “You sure look beautiful tonight!” Inside I was thinking, “Wow! I never saw this coming…no reason to have known…she never got out of the car.”

If you think that would have been hard to cover, try covering the shock of her not having any legs, I mean none, no legs from the hips down! This boiled over in my mind while I fought to remain in control of my manners, speech, eyes, and actions. I was determined not to hurt this girl’s feelings at all. I focused every fiber of human kindness within me into making the best of this situation.

“Oh, thank you, you are so kind, and the flowers are beautiful,” she said.

My eyes looked up and caught her mother giving me a questioning look, so I quickly spoke to her, “I see where (we’ll call her Ruby) get’s her good looks.”

This seemed to catch her off guard and the mother blushed and smiled at me, “Why…thank you.”

We exchanged pleasantries for a few short minutes. All the while, her mother and father seemed to be checking me out, or trying to figure me out.

“Well, we better be off, the…movie (yeah, that’ll work I thought) starts soon, and we don’t want to miss the beginning,” I said nervously.

Yeah,” she agreed, “we better be going! See ya dad, bye mom.”

I took the controls from her mother, who did not seem to want to let go and pushed Ruby outside, down the ramp I had missed earlier, and up to the car.

Actually, things went better than I could have imagined. In the movie, I parked her by an aisle seat, went got popcorn and drinks. Ruby seemed to enjoy the movie very much, but I could not tell you what was on for the life of me. I rolled it repeatedly in my mind, and promised to remember the lesson learned the next time I saw a pretty young thing sitting in a parking lot. “Hey, get out for a moment, please?”

The movie ended, and the dinner afterwards was actually enjoyable. She was seated opposite me, chair up under the table, and I actually forgot all about her handicap until it was time to go. She had a way of pulling me into deep conversation and seemed to want to know everything about me this first night. I even got around to asking about her legs and she explained about a terrible motorcycle accident she had while riding with an old boyfriend, who himself had been killed.

As I pushed her to the car, and we drove back in the direction of her house, I began to have thoughts that I might actually see her again. She was quite stunning, coal black hair and matching eyes, and a body, well, from the hips up, that would normally stop any guy cold in his tracks.

When we neared her house, she touched my arm and asked me to pull off at the next road, which was obviously an entrance into a field that her “daddy owned.” I got out and pushed open the metal gate, pulled the car through, went back and closed the gate, and then pulled the car up under a huge oak tree in the pasture.

It was a beautiful setting with a full moon just cresting the hill behind us, lightning bugs flicking on and off out across the field, crickets and frogs serenading us, and the glow of the city lights just over the next hill. You could not ask for a more perfect summer night, but I will have to admit, I was getting a little nervous.

Do you have a blanket?” she asked.

What man of the sixties did not keep a blanket in the trunk of his car? Especially a young man who had been in the military and often took things from supply clerks in payment for fixing speeding tickets! Ah, the perks of being a military policeman…but that is another story!

I took out the G.I. blanket and spread it out under the oak tree. I then scooped her up and placed her on it. I then, nervously, settled in beside her, looked up, and commented on the moon and stars.

“Would you make love to me?” she said without a hint of embarrassment.


I apologize for being so forward, but you see…well, a girl…girls like me don’t often get another chance and, so, I just want to cut to the chase.” She looked away only momentarily and then back into my wide staring eyes.


“I know, it’s not something you normally do, but like I say…”

“Sure, sure I will,” I said breaking in.

There was, needless to say, some awkwardness to the situation and she quickly sensed it. “Look, it you will lift me up, just high enough for me to reach that low hanging limb…I promise, everything will work itself out.” I looked up, thinking maybe she had been here before, but then picked her up and hung her, literally, on the limb.

Believe you me that was one of the finest evenings I have ever spent hanging out (no pun intended) in a cow pasture. Unbelievable! She had definitely been there before and who cared!

I later wheeled her into her living room where her mother took over and pushed her off to her room. “Call me.”

I will,” I said after her.

Her father put his hand on my shoulder and turned me toward him, then took my hand and firmly shook it. “You are a wonderful guy, thank you.”

“It was nothing…she’s a beautiful girl…you don’t need to thank me for having a good time.”

No,” he said, “you don’t understand.”

“Understand? There’s nothing to understand…we had a great time!”

No. Thank you, thank you, ‘cause…”

“Cause why? I don’t understand your attitude,” I said getting angry.

Because…most guys just leaving her hanging down there in that old oak tree.”