When you drive a CJ, you must handle the CJ.
I kick back in the seat of my mower and just cruise. I escape into another world for a few hours with half my brain lost somewhere in Owen Wister’s Wyoming and the other half harmonizing with the harnessed power of internal combustion, steel and the raw noise of a two cylinder engine.
“You’ll take more from speech, debate and acting with you into adulthood than you will from sports,” I told her. “Trust me. I did both and the only thing I learned from sports is no matter how hard you work or how talented you are, if you aren’t from the right part of town or fill out the uniform right, you’ll always sit bench.”
The scent of grass smoke mixed with tinges of hot ammonia from the tractors parked beside a small stack of haybales has my adrenaline pumping Firefighters never die. They just wait their turn to make entry.
His comment awakened my curiosity. By no means was I ready to feel sorry for him. A man should be able to make his own decisions and deal with the consequences, but something in his tone told me Bud’s story contained more than the usual, “My woman doesn’t like me drinking.”