amazement of buddy don: shoot the devil gits a nuther review!

thanks to them migraine hed-akes, this has bin one of the wurst summers of my life. but i jes notissd that sumbidy writ eem a review of shoot the devil, witch ye kin git yer own copy over at amazon (n read a cuple other reviews) here (cumpleat with waka writ fer ye [ifn ye give me two wurds fer a topick], a chop in chinese that means 'wandering hillbilly' n my verr own signatchur).

but even ifn ye aint a'gone be one of the furst 49 (thays still time fer that), i hope ye will take a look at this here review over on liberry thang ... it sheds a verr nice lite on the book ... n do i ever hope he is rite about it!

will wunders never cease? i jes checked to git the url of whar ye kin buy the book on amazon n twuz a verr nice surprize to see whar mr reneau kindly tuck it into his hed to post his review over thar as well!

amazement of buddy don: a nuther Amazon revue

twuz my grate good fortchun to git wurd that thays now a secunt revue of shoot the devil up on Amazon.com. heres the lank.

bleeve it or not, thays still a few of them furst 49 left so dont deelay ifn ye wonta git ye one. jes foller this lank. as a reeminder, heres whut ye git:

1. a brand new copy of shoot the devil packed in rice paper with luv


2. the book will be chopped by my own persnull chop, witch tiz the chinese care-ackters fer wandering hillbilly


3. twill be numberd as witchever one of the furst 49 ye happend to git (fer instunts, it could be 48/49!)


4. finely, ifn ye give me two wurds fer the subjeck of a waka ye wood lack to be writ jes fer ye, i will cumpose sed waka n rite it by hand in yer own copy of the book

go read them revues n see ifn taint the kinda book ye orta be readin yer ownself.

finely, thankee, thankee, thankee bonnie! (ye half to foller one of them lanks in the verr post yer a'readin ifn ye wonta know who bonnie is.)

more good luck of buddy don: his book gits its furst amazon revue!

taint as big a sprize as ye mite could thank, but a verr nice persun has dun writ a revue of shoot the devil over on amazon, witch ye kin read it by clickin here.

heres a lil quote frum that revue, witch twuz writ by anne johnson of The Gods Are Bored n Six Word Blog:

His hillbilly writing style notwithstanding, Buddy Don is highly literate, attending college, working the computers at Oak Ridge Laboratory, presiding over lively parties at his rural farm, pondering the Big Questions. This novel suggests -- as do so many others done in vernacular -- that there's no clear correlation between conversational idiom and intelligence level. "Shoot the Devil" is a fine piece of work. In quality paperback format, it will withstand multiple readings without blemish. Well worth the price of admission.

did i menchun that thays still a few of the furst 49 left?

ye kin git in on this grate deal: ye git the book, chopped, signed n with a waka writ rite in it based on two wurds ye give me fer a subjeck.

no order will be refused ... n did i fergit that ye git free shippin in these here united states? n ifn ye order frum sumwhars else, we will see whut we kin do to make that shippin free also.

so take add vantage of the eggschange rates n git ye a unique piece of wurk uh, art.

friends of buddy don: verr nice folk

i wonta thank everbidy that wuz kind a nuff to send condolentses over the death of a long time friend. twuz nice to here frum Tennessee Jed, witch i couldnt make no comments on his site fer the longest till a cuple daze ago. n verr nice to here frum otherns that i caint menchun here (sum folks lacks to keep thar lives privutt).

i wuz speshly struck by whut Anne Johnson frum The Gods Are Bored writ in a comment:

last fall i lost a old buddy the same way. he jes fell over dead. i never quit trine to be his friend, but he stopped answerin my emails after while. he wuz 57 also.

tuther day i was huntin fer sumthin and i found all the silly stuff he n i used to pass back n forth at wurk when we wuz in the same office. it jes brought back the hurt agin. he had a blog and everthang, i didn't know till after he wuz gone. hiz name wuz tom wiloch and i thank he wrote his Wikipedia entry his ownself. sounds lak him.

friendship is kinda lak a buncha leaves flowin down a river. thay bunch up then rearrange, flow apart, mebbe flow back tagither agin, mebbe not. n sum sank, n sum flow on.

tis one a the mystries.

that putts thangs bout as well as they kin be putt.

loretta also sent me a lil pome by Mary Lee Hall that bares repeatin:

If I should die and leave you here a while,
be not like others sore undone,
who keep long vigil by the silent dust.
For my sake turn again to life and smile,
nerving thy heart and trembling hand
to do something to comfort other hearts than thine.
Complete these dear unfinished tasks of mine
and I perchance may therein comfort you.

i wuz also gratafide to git a anser back frum a email i sent to a nuther ole friend that i hattent herd frum (or writ to) in a dozen years. i caint hep but wunder whar thangs could lead, but tiz promissin.

point is, life goes on. n the grate thang bout that is how a bidy makes new friends n sum of em turns out the be the verr best.

one of em putt up with me promissin to send eem his copy of shoot the devil fer sevrul weeks whilst i hoped to git well frum a slew of migraines n make a video of me signin n choppin n ritin a waka fer eem in his copy. he wuz kind a nuff to putt a verr nice post bout it up on his site, witch tiz a nuther of my faverts name of Thinking Meat.

finely, durin this lil passage of life whar it seems time eethur moves too fast (whilst i am at wurk trine to keep up with everthang) or too slow (whilst i am a'lyin in bed wonderin ifn i kin ever find sleep agin), i am reeminded of sumthin miz bd taught me early in our life together. she wurked most of her life as a jurnalist n one time innerviewd a feller frum Hiroshima, who i caint member his name. he wuz one of them that survived n wuz makin the round here in the u s of a to talk bout whut twuz lack n all. durin the innerview, miz bd owned up to bein frum ole kridge tennessee whar thay made that thar bomb. she wonted to pallgize bout it or sumthin, but he tawt her a fraze that has wurked minny a wunder fer us ever since: shi kata ga nai, witch that translates ruffly to, 'the unfortunate thing has happened; we must move forward.'

so pitcher me, movin ford, aimed tords wurk n ritin n not givin up even tho when sumbidy so near jes up n dies, it makes ye questchun everthang bout life agin n wunder whut tiz all bout n wuther tiz wurth it so suffer so ere ye die yer ownself. fack is, ye git to wundern bout ever other thought thats razed frum the ded by sumbidy ye know that well a'dyin ... witch ponderin such matter is bout as wurthy a thang as a bidy kin do ... or so i reckun.

books of buddy don: that thar library thang

mayhap ye dun notissd a bunch of books over to the left of this here blog. i gut them a'goin by joinin a lil site name of librarything.com. i bin thankin bout trine to make a list of all the books i red, witch i know tiz a slew of em but not how big a slew. so i started addin books to that site n showin em on my left navbar. ye orta try it!

btw, ye kin see n even buy ye a copy of shoot the devil frum amazon by goin here. them amung ye thats red it could go thar n rite a revue, mayhap the furstn ever writ innywhar!

i wuz even able to add it to my vershun of librarything on a counta ye kin have it search amazon. how thangs has changed in my lil life!

waka of budouadana: Lizard

a feller name of BitLizard wuz kind a nuff to let me post the waka i writ fer his book, witch he wuz the furst persun to order one. heres whut he wonted his waka to be about:

Hi Buddy Don -

I'm happy to follow your Mom at #2, overjoyed in fact. I'm not sure how to pick the words for the waka, but maybe you can do something with the words lizard and joy. :-) How's that for challenge!

Chopped, numbered, signed with a personalized waka... who could ask for more? Cheers...

so heres the waka i writ in his book:

Lizard

The lizard slithers
Stealthily through the brush,
Seeking a rock warmed
By beams of the glowing sun,
Where he can bask joyfully.

it duz my hart good that thays folks a'wontin to read it. mayhap yer one of em? click here fer details on whut ye git n here ifn ye wonta go ahead in git yourn.

waka of budouadana: Play

Play

When the words won’t come,
When the blank page seems to sneer
With its mute demands,
The writer must lose herself
In verbal play: her sentence.

thisn wuz writ fer a fine writer i know, witch tiz fer the book she orderd. once i git my hands on her new book (hot offn the presses), i will revue it here fer yall.

mean while, thays still a chants to git one of the furst 49 of shoot the devil, witch i dont know ifn ye red the comment frum yesterdy by a nuther grate riter, Anne Johnson frum The Gods Are Bored, but i reckon ye orta not miss if ifn yer wundern whuter the book is inny good.

waka of budouadana: Time (writ fer Buck)

ye probly dun notissd how Buck give me permisshun to print the waka i writ fer eem after he bought his copy of shoot the devil. he had menchunned how it mite could be his epitaf, witch that led me to doin sumthin thats common in the ritin of waka (generly called tanka). tiz whar ye to vary the line a lil bit, witch i tuck add vantage of that in the third line with hisn, lettin it have 7 silabulls in sted of jes 5. tiz one of my faverts now (witch, that dont mean tiz inny good).

Buck tole me only that he wonted his to be titled 'Time' n bout how he mite use it fer his epitaf, witch that made it a lil trickier to git rite (causin the ritin of a few ere i gut one i wood be willin to rite into his book).

so here tiz:

Time

Time, though eternal,
Lasts no longer than a match
Consumed by flickering flames,
Leaving behind the ashes
Of remembered radiance.

mayhap ye mite also dun red whar BitLizard writ a comment bout how ye orta git one of the furst 49 on a counta ye git benefits aint nobidy else a'gone git. click here to take add vantage of that!

novels of buddy don: bout a waka writ fer Buck

i dont know whuther ye read the comments on this here blog, but ifn ye do, ye mite coulda seen the comment Buck made, witch tiz about the best pay innybidy kin git fer thar ritin:

My personalized Waka was worth the price of the book Buddy Don.

Thanks a whole, whole lot!

it dont git no bettern that!

tiz also proof that them books is a'gittin to them that orderd em. i ast Buck whuther he wood mind ifn i wuz to post the waka writ fer eem, n that i will do ifn he agrees.

meanwhile, thays sum books left, so ifn ye wonta git one, ye orta order whilst ye kin. once this furst batch has bin sold out, i wont be makin the same offer as i am now, witch ye kin read all bout it here.

the point is, i wonta give a lil exter to them that support shoot the devil now. thays even a lil sprize a'cummin up, witch whoever buys em one of the furst 49 will be offerd sumthin aint nobidy else a'gonna git lessn they pay more fer the priviledge.

watch this here blog fer more on the sprize! whilst yer waitin, ye kin click on a shoot the devil to git yourn!

waka of budouadana: Patience

Patience

When great rivers freeze,
Blocking all ferry traffic
With huge ice boulders,
Travelers must be patient
While waiting for the spring thaw.

by the way, ifn ye wonta do yer part to hep git the economy a'goin agin, to hep thaw out the frozen debt markets, why dont ye buy yer copy of shoot the devil whilst ye kin still take add vantage of the special offer, witch ye git a numberd copy of the book, chopped with the wandering hillbilly chop, sined by the author and yer very own waka, writ jes fer yer book n based on the subjeck ye supply me in two wurds or less.

novels of buddy don: shoot the devil

furst off, i wood lack to thank them folk who have bin kind a nuff to order thar copy of shoot the devil. i real eyes that the price is a bit hi ($25.99), but fer that ye git whut could be a grate bargin on a counta each book sold frum this here furst batch will be unique: individually chopped, sined, etc.

best of all, ifn ye ast fer it, ye git a waka hand writ in yer copy.

point is, ifn this here novel should turn out to be famus or a classick, ever sangle one of them furst 49 books sold will turn into a uniquely valuable collecktibull. i add mitt that the chantses of inny book turnin into a huge seller or a classick are slim. thems the facks, ma'am, as they say.

but the chantses are much bettern inny odds ye kin git with a lottery or mos inny other gambull ye mite try. big differnts here is that even ifn ye buy a book that dont turn out to earn ye a pile of money, ye still a'gone have the book n the lackly enjoymint ye git frum readin a good book (n even ifn it mite seem arrogunt to say so, i know tiz a good book).

nuther thang to menchun is that thar waka i promiss to rite ye, ifn ye give me a wurd or two. ye mite could thank taint all that hard to rite one, n fer the mos part ye wood be rite. but that dont mean ye kin rite one thats suitabull fer ritin into a book sumbidy orderd.

twuz my grate good fortune that one of my favert readers n bloggers, Buck of Tête-à-Tête-Tête, orderd one. his reequest wuz fer a waka on 'time.' i tride n faild to suit myself with a waka fer eem this mornin, but in the attempts, i writ a cuple otherns!

aint nuthin lack trine to rite fer havin lucky acksidents!

so my pall gies to ye, Buck, but i caint send yourn out today. twill be tomorrow, even ifn i gut to rite fifty waka ere i rite on good a nuff fer a feller as fine as yew.

meantime, heres the two waka i writ whilst a'trine to rite yourn:

Age

Age adds wrinkles
To our faces and our brains,
Leaving memories,
That fade, blur and dim as time
Kindly distills our story.

Change

Without constant change —
Day and Night, Passion and Calm,
Even simple Laughter —
All would be static, frozen,
Without Life or Love or Time.

have ye orderd yer copy of shoot the devil yet? no? then click this lank n git ye one ere tiz too late!

chores of buddy don: mailin books!

today i had the grate honor of spendin my mornin hours perparin books to mail. meant ritin a lil waka or two fer them that wonted em n putting numbers, chop n signachurs whar thay blongs. at lease one reader has dun red it cumpleatly n he thanks twill be a classick ... witch ye mite speck as much frum yer own bruther, ceptn he wood never say such a thang ifn he dint bleeve it, n i have the unpublished manuscrips to proov it.

ye mite wonta order yourn today, ere tiz too late to git a furst edition sined, chopped n numberd.

novels of buddy don: nuther note about shoot the devil

on fridy i found out that the banner ad fer shoot the devil dont show up a lots of places that hides behind firewalls n websense blockers n such.

so to make it verr simple, ye kind buy ye a copy of the book by clickin rite here! dont fergit to give me two wurds of deescripshun fer the waka ye wood lack to have writ by hand in yer copy.

thankee to them few thats dun alreddy orderd. heres hopin the rest of yall gits a chants purty soon ...

novels of buddy don: that thar chop

yesterdy i owned up to havin a novel name of shoot the devil published n menchunned that ifn ye wuz to buy ye one, i wood sine it n chop it. not only that, ifn ye give me two wurds to deescribe a waka ye wood lack to have writ by hand in yer copy of the book, i will make one up jes fer yew n rite that waka in yer copy of the book.

whenever i menchunned that, i sed that a book bein chopped woodnt hurt it nun. heres whut i mean by chopped.

ye kin git yer own chop, ifn ye wonta, by orderin it frum Dragon's Tomb in hong kong same as i dun. takes bout a munth to arrive after ye order. the one i ordered wuz fer 'wandering hillbilly' n it cum out lack this:



how i wish i knew me a bunch of them chinese carackters sos i could be shore that whut i bought wuz ackshly sumthin bout a wandering hillbilly. thonly thang i know fer shore is how one of the careackters stands fer mountain (thats the one in the upper left hand corner that looks kindly lack a trident).

folks in china has bin usin chops kindly lack a signachure fer minny a year (lease a cuple centries). thang is, ever chop is hand carved, witch that means thay aint no two of em jes alike, n that makes inny one of em a unique marker to proov whoever used it wuz the persun thay wuz spozed to be.

so here is the offer i am a'makin to innybidy that buys em a book:

1. ye git yer own copy of shoot the devil


2. i will persunally sine n chop yer copy


3. shippin n handlin in the united states is free


4. ifn ye give me two wurds bout whut kinda waka ye wood lack to have handwrit in yer copy, i will compose one fer ye n hand rite it in yer copy of the book


5. each book will be numbered as ifn twuz a artistick print that has a limited number of copies, witch thays only 49 of em n who knows when or ifn i will be able to git innymore

i wuz deelited n amazed that them books started sellin within a cuple hours of me announcin thay wuz fer sale yesterdy, so ye mite wonta order yourn whilst the numbers are still low.

novels of buddy don: shoot the devil

ifn ye look real keerful lack, ye mite could notiss a new lil banner ad on the left hand side of this here blog.

tiz fer a novel i writ that has finely bin published name of shoot the devil, witch tiz the furst book of life n pinions of buddy don, hillbilly.

(by the way, ifn ye dun alreddy red the draft of it here as i wuz a'ritin it, ye will see how i dun cleand it up n rewrit sum of the ruffer parts.)

thay say timin is everthang n in sum ways ye mite could thank thay wudnt no wurser time to be trine to sell a novel, speshly one writ in hillbilly. fer one thang, the hole publishin bizness has changed thanks to everthang a'goin digitull. thay wuz a lil articull in salon tuther week name of Read it and weep; The economic news couldn’t be worse for the book industry. Now insiders are asking how literature will survive.

tiz my fervant bleef that literchur is a'gone survive no matter whut. tiz lack sayin folks wont make no more rock n roll musick now that ye kin downlode it fer free. taint so. ever artist ever born has to create or die. histry shows how minny of the gratest artists of all time dint make no money offn thar wurk. (i kin reelate to that, even ifn i aint one of the gratest artists in histry, on a counta i aint made much money neethur!).

but i gut to readin all them reasons why literchur is bout to die n real eyesed how it has sumthin to do with the argumint that folks aint gut no deesire fer books. purty soon folks will only read books on thar eelecktronick deevices, thar kindles n such.

innywho, i happen to luv books, even ifn i do wish i had a kindle vershun of The Tale of Genji, world's furst novel, witch twuz writ by a japanese woman round the years 1000 to 1008 or so. the book translated into english runs to over 1,100 pages n weighs a good five pound or more, so tiz hard to lug around. but i wood still wonta have the book itself, not jes the digitull ghost of it.

but i dun herd the wurd n figgerd i wood offer the follerin deal to make this here book, the physicull thang, wurth havin:

1. furst, ifn ye order the book fer deelivry in the usa, ye dont have to pay fer handlin n shippin.


2. secunt, i will bof autograff n chop ever book innybidy orders (i will splain 'chop' by n by, witch no harm whutsoever happens to a book thats been chopped), lease fer the furst batch.


3. ever book of the furst batch will be sined n numberd, kindly lack ye mite do with a artisticull print.


4. finely, i will putt a personull waka writ jes fer ye ifn ye give me two wurds of the subjeck ye wont fer yer waka.

tiz only fair to warn ye that thays only 49 books left out of the furst batch, n i dun sent the furst one out. (ye mite also have gut the news on this frum my good friend red molly, who she was the furst persun to read the hole thang n cunvints me that reglar folk mite lack a book writ in hillbilly. hers wuz made ere i had the chop n ere i wuz numbern thangs, but it orta be speshul in its own rite on a counta tiz sined n all.)

ifn i wuz a rich man, i wood luv to give these books away, speshly to folks thats bin puttin up with this here blog fer so long, but i aint rich n this year, i gut a cut in pay of over 10% (tiz true fer mos everbidy on wall street, witch them that wuz makin more had even bigger cuts in thar pay). so the furst batch mite could be thonly one on a counta ifn i caint sell em, i caint git no more.

so why dont ye give a lil click to that thar banner ad n git yer copy whilst the numbers are low! ye never know: yer book mite could be a verr valuabull item sumdy, witch i am a'hopin ye will buy it sos ye kin read it, but ifn ye wonta make it a investmint, thats fine too.

life of buddy don: frum the trenches of 'the street'

up n down wall street, witch them that wurks thar generly calls it 'the street,' innywho, up n down 'the street' this munth or last or mayhap nex accordin to whar on the street a bidy wurks, thar havin whut everbidy lacks to call 'compensayshun day.' on this day everbidy gits his or her number, meanin whut thar bonus will be.

now thays a slew of folks all over this cuntry that hates the idee of wall street bankers gittin huge bonuses while thar cumpnys bizness is in the toilet. thanks to how bad thangs have gut, the message has cum thru, witch the reesult hits all of us, whuther we wooda made a big bonus or sum annual chump change.

so how do thangs cum out? mos houses on wall street lack to call tharself 'full compensayshun shops,' meanin that ye look at everthang ye gut, bonus included, to figger out how ye dun.

this year we dun terrbull as everbidy knows. we are lucky thays lites on in the bildins whar we wurk. to kindly try to balance thar books n git the folks on main street to quit talkin bout bonuses, this year we purty much dint git one or gut sumthin so small that it dont matter much.

whut that cums out to is that ever sangle persun wurkin at a firm lack goodbank whar i wurk has to take a cut in pay, sumwhar twixt 10 and 15 per cent. tiz hard news to hear jes befor chrismus n smile bout afterds, but whut ye gone do?

this years bonus fer them amung us that has jobs turns out the be ... havin jobs!

i fer one aint nuthin but thankfull even if we wont have nuthin to spend on hallday gifts, lease not lack we have had in the past. mayhap we will make all our gifts.

heres hopin ye dont have to have no drasticull cut in yer wages jes to keep yer job.

heres hopin ye gut a job to keep.

reckolleckshuns of buddy don: ruff day yesterdy

i bin wurkin on wall street fer 20 years now n whut happend yesterdy is kindly a annual event, ceptin that generly they lets the 'ded wood' go n then rebild n such. but whenever the markets tank the way they bin a'doin lately, then ye kin dam betchye that them wall street firms wont be employin nobidy they caint make mony on. i aint blamin em, but tiz the kinda thang that makes fer a verr long n difficult day.

turnt out that yesterdy wuz jes the secunt round (i dint even know till then that i had dun made it past the furst round) with a thurd round on the way. twuz a day whar not a hole lot gut dun on a counta folks wuz too busy gossipin bout who gut let go. thay wuz a list of names a good minny of us knew n twuz sad to thank of em a'bein gone. i wish i could say i wuz outta the woods fer this yer -- and i gut purty good reason to thank mayhap i mite could be -- but i wont know fer shore fer a nuther few weeks.

on a counta thangs wurks lack this. furst they cut the part of goodbank (whar i wurk) that takes keer of reglar investers on a counta thar all spooked by the latest bad news n 'stayin on the sidelines,' witch i dont know whut that sez bout whar thar a'puttin thar mony, but could be a mattress of sumthin. innywho, they aint as much call fer finanshull analysts to take keer of em ifn they aint astin fer keer. so a slew of them folks wuz let go, long with the folks that makes shore thar cumputers wurks.

nex bunch to go is them that wurks in the institushunull bizness, witch thats the part that handles big investers, institushuns n such. them that wuz tradin debt n such n them thats tradin equities n who knows whut all else, well, they were bound to suffer, long with 'back office' folks. so thay wuz a passel of names i knew n people i lacked a lot that aint a'gone be a'wurkin thar. these folks is in groups they call 'bu-aligned,' witch that means theys all devoted to takin keer of a particlar bizness unit.

nex (n last?) roun is the 'horizontull' groups that wurks on makin thangs better across the entire firm. n thats whar my group cum in.

i am deelited with how my boss n his boss handled thangs, speshly whenever the big boss gatherd us all in a room to give us the lowdown so fer as he knew it.

i sed i wuz feelin purty optimistick my ownself, n thats on a counta i run into the big boss in the cafeteria jes after i had dished me out sum oatmeal. i hattent seen im in a long while n dint even notiss he wuz thar, but he calld me over n tole me how importunt whut i bin a'doin is (i am a'wurkin in knowledge management) n how our plan for the year is a goodun n all. he even paid fer my oatmeal, so mayhap i kin stay aroun.

i shore hope so on a counta i aint never wurked at such a good place, lease in terms of the managemint i been a'gittin.

so me n miz bd will celebrate a lil this weekend n look ford to mayhap gittin past the next cut ... n ifn sumhow i dont make it thru, we will jes be a'startin out on a new add ventchur.

(ifn ye wonta make a comment, ye gut to click on 'link' below.)

home improovmints of buddy don: new heater

yue mite coulda eggspeckted whut happend. me n miz bd has been a'livin here in this rite nice apartmint fer nigh onto 8 years now n thangs is startin to brake. whenever we tuck the place back in 2000, everthang in it wuz brand new. now sum of them thangs is a'wearin out. the heater gut to makin a awefull noise ere it quit a'wurkin atall. the mike-row-wave dun the same a lil while ago, but we figgerd we could live without it till we could buy a new'un on a counta it cost as much to fix the ole one as to buy a new'un.

innywho, that heater knew when to die, witch twuz rite at the beginnin of the coldest spell we dun had this year. it tuck em a lil over a week to order the reeplacemint, witch they cum to putt it in on saturdy (makin us wait aroun near all day fer em). but the new heater is much bettern the ole one on a counta it has a thermostat n a sleep mode n all, but the best thang bout it by far (cumparrd to the old one) is how tiz so quite.

thang is, whenever ye lose sumthin ye doot hardly thank bout on a counta how well it wurks, ye git to real eyesin jes how much ye orta be countin them blessins ye dont hardly notiss till thar gone.
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notes of buddy don: bout the new chaptur

i real eyes how tiz almos impossibull fer innybidy to pick up the story here after i wudnt able to rite nary a wurd on it fer over a year. ifn ye wuz to look back on it, ye wood find out how twuz rite after ritin that last chaputr on februwairy 2 of last year that i gut into a long streak of migraines, witch i wuz out on short term disbilty fer 2.5 munths on a count of it. i half to add mitt fear of them migraines kep me offn that ritin horse fer a while, but ye caint jes give up.

so ifn ye wonta ketch up with the story, furst heres a list of them careackters frum the story in the part thats a'goin on: ritin of buddy don: care ackter list

nex, heres whar sum of them chapturs leadin up to thisn are:

• re-rites of buddy don, chapter 141: thonly white man in heaven
• life of buddy don, chapter 142: emilys cumplaint
• life of buddy don, chapter 143: buyin a car
• life of buddy don, chapter 144: a hauntin questchun
• life of buddy don, chapter 145: puzzles of the hart
• life of buddy don, chapter 146: the strange summer of 1983

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life of buddy don, chapter 147: a lesson in looseburg

long tords the end of august in 1983, we tuck us a lil trip to looseburg sos emily could see all her folks ere the fall quarter wuz in full swang. we had spent our time readin n watching baseball on tee vee n in my case wurkin on a reevishun of crap notes n playin racketball everday over at the y n seein sum of the folks that we wuz in graduwait skool with. i seen a lot of bud rankin n billy stewart on a counta bud needed lots of talk bout his marrg brakin up n billy couldnt never git a nuff racketball to suit im. we all missd johnny mayhew sumthin awfull n bud vowed he wood move on up to new york city lack johnny dun. i dint thank nuthin much wood cum of that on a counta how he had gut hisself sined up to teach three classes over at ut, but i kep my mouth mosly shut.

we wuz packin up our stuff the nite before we wuz a’gone drive across the state whenever sharon worth cum by fer a visit. she had dinner with us n stayed till bout 10, mosly talkin bout cassandra. odd thang wuz how emily wuz jes as innerested in the topick as i wuz, speshly whenever sharon sed she hated to say it, speshly in frunt of miz duncan, but she bleeved cassandra wuz in luv with mr d, witch thats whut all em students wuz a’callin me by then. she even sed cassandra had dun tole her she hoped mr d wood be the one to ‘deeflower’ her, witch wuz jes the way she sed it n ye wood swear she wuz blushin only ye couldnt tell fer sartin.

that putt me to wundern bout how could she have been raped ifn she still wonted to be deeflowerd n later on emily splaind how she had tuck cassandra to the gynacallgist fer a checkup n they couldnt do no pap smear on a counta they couldnt git nuthin in thar she wuz so tite. i ast emily how could all these facks add up to innythang n emily sed she figgerd twuz lackly that a rape dint count as no deeflowerin, witch that wood be sumthin a woman gives willinly, not that emily wonted me to be the one to take it, n mayhap after the rape cassandra gut so skeerd to whar she sealed rite up sum kinda way.

nex day emily gut to wurryin bout leavin the apartment fer so long n how twood be possibull that sumbidy could brake in n go thru all our thangs n sumhow figger out witch book of the two thousund we had that she had hid our certificate of deeposit on the cee dee we had bought, so i ast her could she find it, n after a lil search she did. i tuck it over to the bank n gut us one of them safety deeposit boxes n putt it in thar. corse that ment we gut a late start, witch that ment we wuz late gittin to looseburg n couldnt pick up maureen frum her wurk lack we wuz spozed to have dun. in sted, we had to stop in nashvull n search fer a fone booth sos we could call to splain how we wood be late.

but maureen wood fergive mos innythang n turnt out they wuz plannin to go shoppin at the mall, so we gut her n drove out to columbya to the mall whar emily turnt her nose up at about fifty differnt parr of shoes, so we give it up n drove on into looseburg. twuz a fridy evenin, so bout as quick as we gut home, along cum milton n his wife n daughter, witch we spent the evenin drankin n laffin n fer them, smokin so minny cigarettes to whar ye could see the air.

nex day we wint over to see nanny. she had cooked a big ole lunch of fried chicken, sweet taters, fried corn, green beans, fried apples, home made cole slaw, macaroni n cheese, corn bread, sliced tomaters, iced tea n a deesert of peach cobbler. nanny gut her feelin hurt ifn ye dint have two plates, so i wuz one stuffed lad by the time we wuz reddy to leave. i wish i could say thonly thang i member bout that visit wuz the grate food, but whut i member most whuz how nanny ast me did i ever half to touch my students on the skin. twuz such a odd questchun that i dint ever fergit it.

i dont member whut i ansered nor even ifn i did. i do member feelin a lil awkwurd till she ast me could i git rid of sum waspers that had dun built three nests round her house. she give me a long broom n ast could i run fast. i sed i coult but that i wood be rite back. i drove down to the otasco hardware store n gut a can of that vigaro stuff that kills waspers n sprayed it on them nests n then knocked em down. twuz a blessin to have that to do whenever i wuz feelin so odd bout her questchun. corse i had dun touched my students on a counta i had this habit of shakin thar hands n hi fivin n such. but whut gut me mos bout it wuz how i had such fantasies of makin luv to cassandra, dreamin of touchin her all over her bidy. i hate to add mitt it, but that gut to be one of the mane fantasies that wood hep me with my evenin handshake on them nites whenever emily wudnt in the mood fer luvin.

after that i tuck emily home sos she n her mama could drive back up to the mall in search of shoes whilst i wint over to miltons to drank beer n watch the cubs on tee vee. milton wuz in rare form, as they say, tellin jokes n lettin me know jes how much he add mired me fer teachin over at that nigger collidge, witch he couldnt hardly git thru a sentence without usin the wurds ‘goddamm’ n ‘nigger.’ once wurk wuz over his wife cum home n she wuz steamd to find milton drankin on a counta we wuz all a’gone over to maureens that evenin fer a big dinner party n she dint wont him acktin out, but he sed he wuz fine.

then his daughter charnell cum home n tole im she wonted to brang her boyfrien to the party. he ast her who he wuz n she tole im twuz sum feller name of keith or kevin or sum name startin with the letter k. then he ast her wuz he a white boy n she sed, ‘daddy! whut do yew thank?’ so he tole her he had been a’thankin bout sumthin he had been meanin to tell her n me bein thar putt im in mind of it, witch he wonted her to know thay wuz two goddammed thangs that wood brake the hart of ever daddy in amurka n thay wuz ifn thar chile wuz to git involved in drugs n ifn she wuz to git herself involved with a nigger, witch whenever he sed that he turnt to me n tole me he dint mean no offents.

i wisht i hadda known whut to anser back, but i wuz fresh out of wurds fer once. twuz the secunt moment in that trip whar all i could thank bout wuz my fantasies n how i wuz dun involved n fer that matter, in a odd sorta way, so wuz emily. ye mite could be wundern why wood i spend inny time with a feller lack milton, witch i wuz wundern the same thang long bout then, but fack wuz, twuz eggspeckted on a counta him bein such a frien to the fambly. he had ‘been thar’ fer emily durin sum awfull times n had ‘been thar’ fer maureen when thangs wuz rocky whenever she n pete wuz brakin up n had even gut between the two of em whenever pete wuz gittin a lil too ruff, so twernt as simple as sayin ye dint wonta sit down n drank beer with such a feller.

but thay wuz more toot than that n tiz sumthin bout me that i cant say whuther tiz good or bad n that is how i have verr often been in places with folks that minny a nuther person wood not find wurthy of thar cumpny, but i couldnt never git to whar i could judge nobidy all that well. wurser, i always lacked watchin em n storin up the memries of how they wuz acktin on a counta thankin maybe sumday i wood use em in a story or whutever. so minnys the time i wuz thar but more lack a specktater than a participunt.

or mayhap i am makin eggscuses. but it dont matter nun on a counta ifn i hadnt spent the afternoon watchin baseball n drankin beer with milton, i wuz a’gone be spendin the evenin with a hole bunch of folk over at maureens: milton n his wife jackelin n savannah n keith or kevin n red wilson n his wife miko n a frien frum japan name of yoko (lack in yoko ono only twudnt her) n maureens bes frien polly. we had stakes n baked taters n salads n dinner rolls n all the iced tea ye could hold. then twuz time to pore the whisky n putt on sum musick n dance a lil n laff n tell jokes n stories n such, all the while drankin n everbidy but me smokin a steddy stream of cigarettes till i had to go outside ever now n agin jes to breath.

everthang wuz fine till pete smith showed up. he wuz a stankin mess, still wearin his orange huntin vest n drunk as yer proverbyull skunk. he made a kindly scene whenever maureen dint wonta dance with im n rite then i seen why milton wuz such a friend to maureen on a counta pete wuz gittin to whar he lackly wooda hit her but milton stood up n tuck out his eye n ast pete did he wont it. pete ast im whut wuz he spozed to do with his bes friens glass eyeball. he sed mayhap twood hep im see whut a fool he wuz makin outta his self. now ye mite could thank pete wooda flew mad bout that, but he jes kindly laffed n sed he reckund twuz time fer im to be gittin home innywho.

corse it hit emily lack a baseball bat in the back of the noggin. she wint to her room a’crine n that wuz the end of the party fer me. seems lack tutherns kep on drankin n such, but we gut to bed n gut to talkin bout how she couldnt trust nobidy ifn her own daddy wood do her thataway. i sed it dint seem to me lack he wuz a’doin nuthin to her but more to maureen, witch she tole me i must not be able to understand the simplest thang. i sed twuz so but whenever she ast me to hold er, jes hold er, i knew a nuff to doot till she wuz sleepin, witch i eased er into the bed n tuck off her jeans n let her sleep in her flannel shirt n bra n knee socks. she had nitemares that nite n woke up maybe three times astin me wood i hold her agin, witch i dun it evertime till we drifted back off to sleep.

nex mornin i wuz up early to read n drank coffee n chat with maureen while she wuz cookin up a big brakefuss of country ham n fried eggs n biskits n sweet milk gravy n coffee n orange juice, witch i squeezed that to do my lil part. maureen kep pallgizin bout pete cummin by as ifn she had planned it. i couldnt thank of nuthin to say, so i let er talk n dint say how i dint see it bein sumthin she had dun. purty soon the brakefuss wuz reddy so she went to git emily n we et.

fer sum reason, emily tole me i had abandoned er n left er unperteckted by lettin maureen wake er up. that gut us into a lil fuss n fite on a counta i tole her twernt possibull fer me to know that she orten to be awoken by her own mother n that led her to tell me she had dun lost all the progress she had made with her counselor, witch she had been seein a feller name of jim buckminster, who he wuz a grad student a’studyin hed shrankin n she had er a kinda crush on im. she figgerd she had made a lot of progress durin thar meetins but that this horribull trip home had set er back to wurser than whenever she had started a’seein im. i dint hardly know whut to say on a counta it dint seem to me she wuz so bad off, but she dint see it thataway. i dint know whut twuz lack to have pete smith fer a daddy, she pointed out, witch that wuz the truth. i dint know whut twuz lack to have all these small minded cuntry racists fer her fambly n how she wuz shamed to brang me thar n putt me thru all that.

this hole fuss n fite kep up whilst we drove out to the cuntry, witch thats how emily putt it whenever we wint to visit her grandmother out at her uncle terrys in cornersvull. ye wood thank we wood burst frum all the food we et! they had been cookin since early lite n thay wuz fried chickin n ham n turnup greens n biskits n gravy n mashed taters n sweet taters n corn on the cob n fried okra n bof apple n chocklutt pie fer deesert n aint not doubt i missed sum of the food they served us.

after we had et we all sat out on the back porch fer a good three or four hours of sittin n talkin n such. the kids had em sum rabbits that they wuz feedin n playin with n they gut me to ride horses with em fer a while. i member cummin back with my legs so tired i could barely cross em whenever i herd grandmother splainin to emily n terry n sister how awful it had been in the hospitull, witch i reckun she had been in overnite not too long befor we cum to visit. i wonted to git up n walk away whenever she splaind whut wuz so awful: ‘they orta treat a bidy bettern that. that nigger nurse putt her hands all over me, jabbin me with needles n acktin lack she wuz jes a’doon her job, but i know she wuz bein ruff on purpose.’ i couldnt tell ifn this kinda talk bout black folk had always been a’goin on or ifn i wuz jes noticin it on a counta how i wuz teachin at knoxvull collidge. i reckun twuz always thar but i hadnt larnt to here it fer whut twuz.

on the drive back home to knoxvull emily tuck up the same fuss n fite of a topick we had been a’havin on the way out to the cuntry only by then twudnt no fuss n fite. insted she couldnt tell me a nuff how shamed she wuz of her folks n her home n how she hated bein two folks, the person she really wuz in knoxvull n the person she had to be whenever she cum back home. she ast me did i know whut she ment n i tole er i figgerd i mite could.

i wont never fergit that trip. we et a nuff to sank a battleship, witch twill give ye a idee of whut a bidy duz in looseburg other than drank n smoke cigarettes. ye eat till ye could burst, meal after meal, all of em as deelishus as ye could ever hope fer. but thay wuz a lesson fer me thar n i figgerd i wuz startin to larn it whenever emily ast me wuz i lookin ford to seein cassandra agin? i dint say nuthin fer a mint n she sed she knew i wuz n odd thang wuz, so wuz she.

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