Bourbon, Missouri.

It seems that whenever I go into a coffee shop, almost anywhere in America, there’s a small group of old guys (as in my age) sitting around a table for their morning chitchat. In La Jolla California, I have heard the old guys talk about their financial investments. In Ashland, Oregon, I’ve heard some discussing who they were in their past lives. In New Mexico, I’ve listened to a long conversation about the price of dirt. In Oklahoma, the old guys I sat near were talking about the weather and the price of cattle. Here in Bourbon, Missouri, this morning’s group was made up of friends who’d lived in this small town for nearly 70 years. One worked In lead mine. Another salvaged scrap metal. A couple of the guys were mechanics. All were talking about their buddy Daryl, who’s claim to fame was that he drove his lawn mower 4 hours to a neighboring town – and back. 

Daryl

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4 thoughts on “Bourbon, Missouri.

  1. Small towns and old timers; now that’s a road worth traveling. Everyone has a story and you’re writing another chapter in the Chris-Quincy saga of devotion to all things wild and free. pedal on. lorraine

  2. The axiom “every life is a story” is made all the more real by the words you pen and the pictures you take cataloguing the lives of some very real and fascinating people. Once again, Christopher, bravo! Love your work!!!

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