I was approached the other day by a couple of gentlemen who had been reading some of my little stories.  There are some that do not get into the local paper and for a good reason.  Some of the stories are a bit colorful, if ya want to call it that.  As we sat down to a cup of coffee, they kindly asked if I minded a few suggestions on my writings.  Well now, being an open-minded person, I said “sure why not”.  But I cautioned them, I may listen but just may not head to what they are trying to tell me because I am by nature cantankerous. Not only that, I write pretty much how I think.  I consider myself a mountain man and a Mainaa. I may not have that down east drawl that I hear occasionally, and I blame that on my living in the big cities for a while.  Ya kinda had to drop some of those or listen to the laughter as you try to tell them flat landers stuff.  So, I sat there with a look of intense concentration of my face (as much as I could muster at this time of day).  And I tell em sure shoot, whas up.

One of the gentlemen made the comment he liked my stories and I should get them into a small booklet.  But he made the suggestion I should hook up with an English teacher to help write the stories.  I pondered that statement for almost two and a half seconds.  You see “hook up with someone” had a different meaning in my life. At my age and due to my life journey, I had no desire to “hook up” with someone.  This definitely changes one thinking process.  You will always have to do things with the other individual in mind.

The other gentleman spoke up and suggested some of my phrases and punctuations needed a little help.  I pondered that suggestion almost as long as the other suggestion and thought I would lay a bit of logic upon these well-meaning gentlemen.  I made reference to the fact as I read articles on the internet, I find a lot of errors.  The majority of the folks writing those articles are getting some sort of pay, one way or another, for writing those articles.  When I started writing these little stories, they were just emailed to people who I thought might be interested in my life.  They seemed to enjoy my humor and my use of the Maine way of talking.  Many thought I made these stories up as I went along.  But I kept reminding them it is my life.  I have had an almost strange sort of life.  I have lived in tar paper shacks and big farmhouses.  There were times no electricity and running water meant ya had to run to fetch the water. There were houses where many strange things happened even when no one was there.  Well, no one you could see or touch.  I have had lunch with governors, bishops, murderers and drug dealers. Many times, it was difficult to tell the difference in the men.  I have experienced life on many different levels and some folks only dream of this.

As I write these little stories, I use Microsoft Word and it shows me with many different colors where my mistakes might be.  Sometimes, I correct them and sometimes I do not.  These little stories are not meant to be politically correct or absolutely correct in use of the English language. I am grateful that the Highlander chooses to print some of them.  I do not cry if they chose not to print some.  Probably that is best anyway.  I am close to becoming an old man and I just love the mountains and the creatures that live here.  I hope you fine folks enjoy these stories.  That is just about the only purpose of putting them down on paper. Life stories should be shared with the hope they bring a smile on someone’s face.

Have a nice day now.

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