Our "Commitment to Quality" is tentative, at best...

Who am I?

I can't imagine why, but maybe you'd like to know more about me before you purchase one of my reasonably-priced and highly entertaining books (which make great stocking-stuffers, by the way).

As this web-page's name suggests: I am what could colloquially be called a "Redneck." Well, half-Redneck. I freely admit that my mother was a Yankee. I can trace my proud family's history back as far as one generation of Florida Crackers.

But just because one happens to be a knuckle-dragging, gravy-guzzling, Moonpie-munchin' Redneck doesn't mean that one is prohibited from also being an artist, musician and author, does it? Nah. We Rednecks can do it all. (Just not very well...)

Sure, I play the banjo! (What aging hipster doesn't?) And mighty poorly, at that. I'm still trying to figure out the stubborn G chord.

I like to fix things. Sometimes they stay fixed. Sometimes they need re-fixing.

I like to draw nekkid ladies. Eh, "nudes," I mean... But nothing weird, I tell you. Tasteful stuff. Mighty tasteful!

The most recent thing I have set my mind to is writing. It started off as a run-of-the-mill midlife-crisis. A sportscar was out of the question, because you can't fit a friggin' sheet of plywood in there, no matter what you do... And a mistress requires more maintenance than an antique tractor. So in despair, just I bought a cheap laptop and started writing.

But what started out as a midlife-crisis, blossomed into a midlife-passion! I began with a coloring book and it was great fun telling everyone at cocktail-parties that I was a published author. Then I progressed to novels. I even bought a courdorouy, a cordoroy, a courdoroy... a ribbed brown sports-jacket with leather patches on the elbows, to prove I am the real deal.

Presently, I am working on an epic poem, believe it or not. I'm hoping to knock Samuel Coleridge off his smug pedestal.

Epic poetry is an almost dead art form, but I intend to either revive it from near-death... or reanimate its rotting, moldering corpse, and make it speak in five lines of iambic pentameter (followed by a rhymed couplet) all in a pretentious English accent.

So now you know all about me! Go buy my book. You'll like it. Until I figure out how to sell those babies on this real-live, genuine website, you can find them on Amazon for $14.99. (If you want a signed copy, the cost goes up somewhat, to $15.00. Believe me: having a signed copy it is worth every penny.)