Billy Bob Jumpback
I talk to myself...a lot. Lately myself has taken on a new persona. He’s a little more hillbilly than what I’m used to, but he seems like a nice enough fellow. Using his voice, I’m attaching the following little example. If you need a name for “myself,” it might be Billy Bob Jumpback.
A Different Voice
Okay. There I was graduating from high school…a pretty big deal in my estimation.
LSU, the big college there in Louisiana, had just opened a a convenience store near where I lived. I just drove over there and signed up for some classes.
I enjoyed my time there at LSU at Alexandria. I made great grades my first semester, but they dipped my second semester. I got interested in other stuff like drinking beer and sleeping late.
After two years they told me I had to get out. I sure didn't want to go to work, so I was off to the main campus, the big kahuna, in Baton Rouge. I was in high cotton now.
I did fine there. One day when I was a junior, a fellow told me I had to pick a major…crap. Okay, I really like philosophy, but on the other hand, I really liked English. I stayed up all night fretting over this but came to a decision that still affects me even today---English it was.
In spite of my best efforts, I finally graduated.
It was a time that we were at war with a bunch of little yellow people in Viet Nam and Uncle Sam was real serious about the draft. I volunteered for the draft which meant I only spent two years with these folks. They gave me a sweetheart deal, a tour of Germany.
After two years and two months (a little stockade time), I was back home. I had no other choices. It was off to work. Crap.
enough