From the very first glimpse Henry Wilton caught of Hank Williams hunched over the mic moanin’ the Love Sick Blues up there on the Grand Ole Opry stage in the Ryman Auditorium, he knew what his destiny was: become a hillbilly star just like ole Hank. Henry changed his name to Hank, bought a guitar, formed the Rovin’ Rangers, and the rest is history. This then is the “feel good” story about how a good ole boy from Okmulgee, Oklahoma and a lil’ ole po’ girl from Foat Wuth (as Kathy Jones often referred to herself) chased their elusive dream until they finally caught it.
***** (5 Star) Review
If you are in a band, been in a band, or run with a band this is a great book. It shows the hard life it really is making it to the top. The author really is showing the history fairly accurately of the transition from old country music to the rocking country with electric guitars and the changing technology and the beginning influences of Rock n Roll and Blues into Country Music including the overwhelming acceptance by the audience versus the resistance by some of the old hardliners. It makes for a funny, fast paced and interesting read. I didn't care about all the song lyrics but it realy didn't detract from the story and the photos of the old places showed that the author had been there and done that.
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By May 1965, 22-year-old Steve Scheer had the world by the tail. High Performance Mustang convertible. New BSA motorcycle faster than the speed of heat. Beautiful live-in girlfriend. Steady gig with a popular local bar band. All set to take the FAA check ride for his Commercial Pilot’s License. Only one more year of college before he was almost certain to nail down a lucrative job as an airline pilot. Then he stumbled across 1.6 million bucks and everything went to hell.
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Three years into a comfortable retirement, the economic meltdown of 2008 wiped out any chance of Larry Preston and his wife Lynne continuing their privileged lifestyle, forcing them to deplete their devastated, dwindling savings each month. Now a rabid pit-bull, Lynne made Larry’s life a living hell, constantly berating him with a never-ending harangue that he abandon retirement and find employment. The only other option was to sell their big home in an affluent neighborhood, give up vacationing three months a year, and drastically downsize their cushy lifestyle.
Larry always ended up in the right place at the right time, living extremely well, without exerting much effort. The trend continued. A History Channel documentary about the failed Whittaker Aircraft Company reminded Larry that shortly before dying in 1954, his Uncle Arel gave him a Whittaker stock certificate he believed to be worthless. In fact, Whittaker eventually merged with Boeing and the 1941 stock split so many times that it was currently worth enough to solve his financial woes and, best of all, get Lynne off his back.
The stock could be Larry’s salvation. Unfortunately, over fifty years had past since Larry, at age nine, buried the stock certificate and a few treasured objects in a cobbled-up homemade time capsule, in the backyard of his childhood home in Kansas City.
Confident the stock was still where he buried it, Larry set out to find it. Locating the time capsule and reclaiming the valuable stock certificate seemed like a simple task. In reality, the search quickly turned into a twisting, turning, seemingly endless bi-polar Odyssey of ups and downs, near-successes, blind alleys, and frustrating failures.
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Turn back the clock and return to the spring of 1957 in the Heart of America where Rock ‘N’ Roll is king—still new, raw, and spontaneous. Divorce is the exception, not the rule. Cars are American: big V-8 mothers made in Detroit sporting shark fins, shiny chrome and are fast as pure-D-hell. Though there is undoubtedly a commie hiding around every corner, front doors are never locked, and ignition keys are left in cars. Gangsters are Mafia “made guys.” The business of America is business, and it’s booming. Dads have good jobs and money in the bank. Moms don’t work. Kids play outside and walk to neighborhood schools. Teachers teach. Kids learn. Recreational drugs haven’t seen the light of day. All movies and TV programs are “G” rated. Even discussing sex in polite society is taboo. Behind closed doors, anything goes.
In this Eisenhower-Fifties environment, fueled by fast cars, booze, sex, and rock ‘n’ roll the close-knit group of friends from Isom High find themselves unexpectedly caught up in a wide variety of life altering events that suck them up and thrust them headfirst into a swirling maelstrom that continually flings them to and fro, back and forth between the emotional heights of ecstasy and depths of agony, bliss and heartbreak, understanding and confusion, joy and misery, love and hate, peace and rage, harmony and discord, trust and doubt, happiness and displeasure, success and failure, calm and panic, courage and cowardice.
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This is a true tale of ribaldry and misspent youth! If you are a Baby Boomer and grew up in the late ‘50s or early ‘60s you will identify with it. If not, you will still enjoy reading about how it was back then.
I actually wanted to name this book My Favorite Year: 1960, but that is too close to the title of an old movie, so I went with my second choice, If Ignorance Is Bliss, I Must Have Been Ecstatic. Third choice was Sex, Booze, an’ Rock ‘N’ Roll. It won’t take the reader too long to understand why all three would have been accurate titles.
Over the years, when reminiscing with friends over a few drinks, swapping humorous, alcohol-laced anecdotes concerning mutual misadventures of youth, most of my fondest remembrances seem to center around events that took place the spring, summer and fall of 1960. That May, my parents made the tactical error of leaving me alone up to my own devices for a few days. Being fifteen, foolish and fearless, I, of course, took full advantage of the situation by hosting a wild and wooly malt liquor fueled house party that ended up being one of the most memorable times of my life. What became referred to as “The Weekend” actually kicked off an entire summer of unfettered, full-throttle, hell-raising ribaldry that were equally memorable times. Like a fine wine, fond memories tend to improve with age. The bad is filtered out by time, leaving only the good behind. With each retelling, these recollections grew in size and detail, eventually reaching almost legendary proportions. Therefore, after the passage of over five decades, I decided to remove the beer-goggles, cut through all the bullshit, sort fact from fiction, and finally tell the tale in its entirety, from beginning to end, as it actually went down, no holds barred.
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Ice Storm Chronicles Vol. I
Stormy Weather (Novella)
Door To Twenty-Nine (Novella)
The Only Shark In The Sea
Mac's M-1 Carbine
Hell On Earth
All In A Day's Work
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Ice Storm Chronicles Vol. II
The Isolationist (Novella)
8:33 A.M. Central Standard Time
The Best Laid Plans
The Final Performance Of D.B. The Clown
Time Is Relitive
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Soulmate: someone who you carry with you forever. It's the one person who knew you, and accepted you, and believed in you before anyone else did or when no one else would. And no matterwhat happens... you'll always love them.
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For as far back as he could remember, Paul McCarty had been captivated by a past era: the nineteen-sixties. And that paid off for him big time. By the age of twenty-three, his popular “Cruisin’ In The Sixties” club had already made him an extremely wealthy young man. Then he became lost in the sixties for real.
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Sometimes like a raging River, the flow of Time breaches its banks and establishes a new channel to surge through.
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The summer of 1999, fresh out of college and traveling through the mother of all rainstorms across rural Indiana on a routine business trip, Rick Ryan unexpectedly found himself thrust headlong into implausible surroundings inhabited by a gorgeous blond flapper and musicians he had previously only read about on the dust jackets of old jazz records. Rick soon discovered that sometimes a violent thunderstorm is much more than just a turbulent atmospheric disturbance.
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Two delightful children's stories in one book.
Mrs. Hobbs Takes A Vacation is the true story of the travels of Mrs. Hobbs, a Bengal cat who became lost, and was eventually reunited with her owners in Fort Worth, Texas thanks to a micro chip implanted in her at the cattery where she was born in Aberdeen Scotland.
Santa’s Kitties is the tale of Santa and all his cats that assist him in prepairing for his big night, pull his sleigh, and help him deliver toys and gifts to boys and girls all over the world.
Print Book: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1494464802