HOMELESS ON THE HIGH DESERT BLOG added to our list!
The High Desert is my Home, I’ll never be “Homeless”.
What a long, strange trip it’s been.
As product of mid-fifties promiscuous pregnancy and sixties serial southern California divorce, I am of a Unique Generation. My parents didn’t do me any favors, there’s no silver spoon stickin’ out of my ass.
I grew up on The High Cascade huntin’ and fishin’, fightin and fuckin’, and pretty much mindin’ my own damned business. Had a gun when I was eight, a pony at ten; was ridin’ line on a cattle ranch at fifteen, just me and a couple of horses, a couple of dogs, a bunch of cows and a whole lot of high desert sky. My dad, uncles, grand-dads were all VFW, as am I; worked in the woods, in the sawmill or out on the ranch, as have I. I’m pretty sure the whole family – hell, the whole town of Gilchrest, maybe even all of Klamath County- voted for Ike, twice. I would have. Grew up with pretty strong American – Western American – values, I think; grew up in a country, a culture, fearing
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