On boots and bars and motorbikes...

Unless math fails me, they ought to be turning eighty-five this year. But this video and a book I wrote are a couple of items we put together and worked like madmen to get published largely during the month of September. W e somehow managed to pull it off while getting our regularly scheduled publications out the door and spending a full week on the road while covering the Hurricane Ike when it tore through East Texas and left half the state in darkness. Nothing like deadlines bearing down to see what people are made of. The book  was roughly a 100-page pictorial history of the organization, which made use of several great historical photos in combination with several more modern shots. As such, roughly of the third of the photos used were my own. The color scheme, theme and many of the quotations by current and past leaders were shared between the book and the video. Although the book itself didn't garner any accolades by itself, one of my photos did. A single sho

This poem actually broke the drought for me, publication-wise, the thing that got me beyond a big pile of rejections and officially back into print for the first time in nearly a decade. It still shocks me that the first thing that gets me in print was a poem. I'm hardly a poet. I don't think so, anyway. I honestly don't get it most days, to tell the truth. I like poetry, but if I listen to a bunch of poets sit around discussing what they like about a poem or collection, it bears no resemblance whatsoever as to why I liked it. I wrote this after being up way too long during one of my book writing sessions earlier this year, and finding myself totally incapable of spelling what should have been a simple word, I thought--discombobulated--I apparently missed it so bad, spell check couldn't even lend a hand, which got me right irate. I hopped on Google and searched "words that start with dis." How many could there possibly be, right? Answer: Based o

Bluestem Literary Magazine, May 2018 is now live, Complete and UNCUT !!!!   You can even hear audio by Outlaw Extraordinaire Bobby Horecka . Mr. Man Candy by BOBBY HORECKA I always take him with a few grains of salt.  Not too much.  I mean, dude’s always been on the rotund side, and he’s got a heart condition, for Christ’s sake.  But don’t take everything he tells you at face value.  You just can’t.  Don’t get me wrong: I love Bubba to death.  Known him for almost ten years now.  Together, we’ve caught rivers of fish, travelled the world, and even started our own construction business.  He’s the type of dude you don’t mind loaning money, the sort of fellow you toss your housekeys and ask to feed your dog while you’re away, and he’s absolutely the type of dude you want at your back in a barfight.  Still, when he called me one day and said he spent the afternoon on his front porch with a Playboy Bunny, I said the first thing that came to mind. “Bullshit,” with th

Your favorite outlaw and UHV President Vic Morgan on Friday, April 27. Sometimes you can just look at a dude and tell by the pale pitiful sight of him, he needs a lot more handlebar time than he's been putting in. This picture is proof positive for not just one fellow, but two... And sadly, the elder will probably beat the younger to the punch... UHV president and fellow biker Vic Morgan shook a lot of hands Friday night at the university's ring ceremony event held Friday, April 27, one of many such long, drawn-out events I'm sure he's looking forward to NOT having to do any more once he retires this year. And if the pale, pallid complexions on these two is any indicator, it is none too soon. A few hours of watching life go by on two wheels needs to be in the game plan for both of them. And soon. Something a lot of folks my not know about Dr. Morgan is that in addition to captaining the UHV ship through unprecedented expansions in student numbers and facilitie

I don't even want to admit to how many rejections I'd accrued since mid-February when I started hearing back from the various submissions I'd sent along to various literary magazines, journals and contests all over the globe. I was actually getting as many as seven and eight nos each day.  So when the letter finally came late this evening saying one of the pieces I submitted was actually going to print, I was even sure what to do next. I'd gotten so accustomed to the Dear BoB letters, we're so happy you chose us to send your work, but what the hell were you on when you wrote this. We sure as hell ain't printing, but we thank you for giving as good laugh, just the same... What? Isn't that form letter they send everyone? No actually, most have very nice in telling your work is going to live its life on your hard drive. You'd be damned impressed just how many different ways somebody can tell you your stuff sucks, and never once say as much.

A San Marcos mainstay, Bill Cunningham was often seen roaming around the city, donning a fedora and sunglasses, and talking books, history and general coolness. A writer, activist and former Texas State University regent, Cunningham died Thursday. He was 69. He was remembered by friends and loved ones as thoughtful, witty and well-loved. “Bill was kind of an icon in San... https://www.mystatesman.com/news/local-obituaries/writer-activist-and-san-marcos-icon-bill-cunningham-dies/1sU8170kfoJf6ocRXpcpKP/ -30- I ran across that bit of news, wishing a buddy of mine from San Marcos a happy birthday. I came to find out he's libel to be locked up for the next three to five (if he's lucky--something about lugees and cops, again, and a string of other litanies--strike two for him). Another friend told me that shortly before he told me he's off to Georgia soon. The same fellow, in fact, who introduced me to the other fellow in the news obit. I'm just getting old, I

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