I was born in 1945, and raised in Cleveland Tennessee. Education was not interesting to me, but the beatniks, and then later the hippies were. Though I was never either. Nor was I a want-to-be. I just was, and still am. And I am not a bit political, but I sure as hell ain't no Republican. Our current President is smart, caring, and a devoted public servant. His Republican opponents would like to be that, and think they are, but I can't see it. I am sixty-eight, that is for sure. And I have never voted. Sometimes telling that is bragging, and sometimes I'm just telling a fact. The sour-puss photo of me does not represent my inner demeanor or anything about me, I think. But a smiley-face would: the pretend me. I yam what I yam. And I don't possess a better photo, a current one anyway.
I write, but rarely about myself. This, of course, is one of those times that I do. I've published 162 posts at My Blog. http://chapjuc.wordpress.com/?ref=spelling. None are about me directly, though all are completely about me in either cryptic or underlying ways. I write fiction mostly, fifteen novels so far since 2002. I am 68 years old, and a major stroke in 2005 made me think I might never write again. But, at that time I had written four novels, so, eleven more have since passed through my right index pecking finger. I love it. I aspire to live a great long while henceforth, but, since I try to live in the present I know nothing about any future, even one moment from now. Something like a stroke can make that a lasting reality. So, ever forward, sometimes two steps forward and then one back, sometimes one forward and two back. Where am I going anyway that I am not already there? Not even The Shadow knows that. To believe anything else is asking for trouble.