Jake was careening down another empty westbound Texas highway having taken yet another flipper in the face from the Pinball Game of Life. All he wanted was a better bounce, a few more points and some extra play. With his best drinking buddy JD at his side and a long string of dumb ass decisions in their wake, Jake figured he was overdue for a Benevolent Smile from the Almighty Pinball Wizard. He grabbed the bottle and took a long pull.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSipping whiskey my ass.\u201d he thought. Throwing back Jack Daniels was a punch that took the edge off life. Even now the edges of the white lines were softening as they rushed by.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSweet.\u201d Jake said. Soft white rectangles were a nice distraction from the memories of loser jobs singing sad country songs in broke down bars and wasting time with ladies named Sally Ann who, having given up the dreams of becoming rock star groupies, were settling for a quick screw and if luck be with them maybe catch and keep the drive by talent. Running away in the middle of the night when the Forever After hints started coming, or he started feeling too comfortable. Sally Ann would cry, hell, they all cried, and he was real sorry for that but they\u2019d sure enough cry if he stayed. They didn\u2019t know they were all stand-ins for Bobbi Jean and who could live up to that? Like all damn fools, Jake didn\u2019t know Bobbi Jean was The One until the night she found him indulging his yen for Jack Daniels and lonely women one time more than she could stand. Since then, he\u2019d been arm in arm with ol\u2019 buddy JD ricocheting through too many dusty towns with too many tricked out pickups and not enough horses. He tried to focus past the marshmallow lines marking the edge of the pavement as a sign announcing luxury homes zipped by. Jake hit the gas; seeing another pasture where the grazing horses had given way to crops of slapped together houses was irksome.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou know Jack, this is how the West was lost, a fancy for easy living and shiny trucks with not so much as a bale of hay in the back to justify their existence. A sad world we live in my friend.\u201d Suddenly Jake was back in Montana, watching the cancer take his Mama, the drink make the Daddy he\u2019d worshipped into a mean-ass drunk letting the ranch slip away acre by acre. Jake shook his head to slam the door on the past, but he was too late to stop the hurting. Crying didn\u2019t make a good god-damn, but Jake knew what did and tipped the bottle way back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell now, life\u2019s a bitch and then you die, ain\u2019t that right Jack?\u201d JD was silent, knowing Jake was fixing to mope about the night Bobbi Jean walked out. That Lacy\u2019d been all goggle-eyed at Jake, coming into the Crossroads Bar and Grill every night, stuffing bills into his tip jar, looking all lonely and such. Not that he hadn\u2019t encouraged her, hell he encouraged them all, that\u2019s what you do when you\u2019re singing in bars for tips, Lord, Bobbi knew that. He knew he\u2019d gone too far again, knew it before she walked in with that look on her face. But here\u2019s the thing, \u2018stead of starting a fight, screaming and carrying on like every other damn fool of a woman he\u2019d ever known, Bobbi Jean looked him dead in the eye, turned on her boot heel and was gone. All that was left was the dust from her truck hanging in the hot night air over the parking lot. Jake tipped JD way back, drinking to her silence and to feeling better. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Never saw the cruiser, but he did hear the sound as his car tore the side view mirror clean off the speed trap sitting right there at the side of the road. A right stupid place to have a speed trap, Jake thought. Who the hell\u2019s gonna speed with a cruiser sitting right in plain sight? The answer was drowned out as the light bar exploded and a siren whined. The cruiser sidled Jake over to the side of the road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cDon\u2019t that beat all?\u201d muttered Jake. He capped JD and slid him under the front seat, rolling down the window as the cop came up to the side of the car. \u201cEvening officer, what can I do for you this fine night?\u201d The cop slowly leaned over towards the window.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou busted the side view mirror clean off my vehicle; did you not notice that little incident as you flew down the road?\u201d He flashed his light over Jake. He saw a smiling hyena wearing sunglasses at night. He saw empty bottles of Jack Daniels on the floor behind the driver\u2019s seat. He saw his quota made tonight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStep out of the car, please.\u201d The cop opened the car door and as smooth as Tom Mix lassoing a bad guy he turned Jake to the front fender and told him he was under arrest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cUnder arrest! What for?\u201d The cop slides down Jake\u2019s sunglasses and turns him so Jake can see the side view mirror missing from the cruiser.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell Mr. Cool, you\u2019re either right drunk or the sorriest excuse for a human being that I\u2019ve seen in quite some time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLook in the mirror lately asshole?\u201d It was a great comeback; Jake could hear JD snicker in appreciation from under the seat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake\u2019s next thought came to him on a cold cement floor. The shadows were going the wrong way for window blinds and a mite too low to the floor. Could only be the bars of a jail cell. Jake lay still on the bare floor while his eyes adjusted to being open and a mite too sober. The many bars were slowly making their way into a few solid ones forming a wall before him. His mouth tasted of armadillo roadkill. Saw a khaki blur beyond the bars. Screwing up his eyes tight the blur became a sheriff, boots up on an old desk.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cAh, Sheriff, just exactly where am I?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cFluvanna City Jail, boy.\u201d The Sheriff never moved his eyes from the newspaper he was reading.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJail? Have I been to court? What\u2019s the charge?\u201d Jake made a move to lift his head, but the sledgehammer smacking his forehead convinced him to just be still. The sheriff snorted.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI expect that means you don\u2019t remember calling the magistrate a jack-booted Nazi, or some such nonsense.\u201d Jake groaned; Jack Daniels talking trash, Jake paying the price, it was all too familiar. Jake allowed as he didn\u2019t rightly recall, but had there been an accident, seeing as he had this here big goose egg. The sheriff laughed, telling Jake he must of got that when he passed out in his cell. It was 30 days, drunk and disorderly; would have been two weeks except for taking off the cruiser\u2019s side view mirror and the trash talking. Seeing as the rodeo passing through last week filled up the county jail, Jake was all theirs. He laughed again as he cracked a tin. Jake\u2019s head whipped up at the sound of the pop top.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSir, I knew I liked this town. I wonder if you have any to spare, sir. I am a bit in need of the hair of the dog, if you know what I mean.\u201d The sheriff stood up, a beatific smile lighting his face as he sauntered over to the cell. Jake dragged himself over to the bars, sitting up as best he could without causing his head to explode. The sheriff kneeled close to Jake and brought the can up to his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBoy, if beer was a nickel a can, you couldn\u2019t even afford the smell, but seeing as I\u2019m off duty and all, I\u2019ll spare you what I can.\u201d A belch poured over Jake, the sour smell of cheap hops filled his nose, made his eyes water and his stomach churn.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThanks Gandhi.\u201d Jakes lowered his face back to the cool concrete to ice down his lump a bit. Laughing, the guard walked back to his desk as another sheriff walked in. They had a nice belly laugh at Jake\u2019s expense as the shift changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah, laugh you hyenas, so glad to be the source of your amusement today.\u201d He muttered, turning his other cheek to the floor. Must have been a hell of a bruise, \u2018cause he could feel the swelling blossom as his cheek warmed. His brain roiled with the movement, and he knew he was gonna hurl. The effort to move to the john hurt so much he considered just staying put and letting room service deal with the aftermath, but instead painfully crawled to the john. Better to die with your head in the john then to drown in a pool of your own puke. He muttered, \u201cDamn Jake, so it\u2019s come to this, who\u2019d a thought it?\u201d As he let loose, he heard the jailers laughing behind him. Well let Homer and Jethro have their fun, he\u2019d just made an important discovery \u2013 the steel john was colder than the floor! In between sessions, he rested his face against the cold metal bowl, easing his pulsing brain. Soon, the double vision would go away and the world would be right pretty again. Or not. It was jail after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By evening, he was fairly certain he might not die this day. He heard another cop shuffle in, time for another shift change. Jake had moved from the concrete to the bunk and was now resting his eyes from the wrath of fluorescent lighting. Suddenly he heard a guitar. Betsey. They had Betsey, the bastards. He thought hard while he listened to fat fingers fumble over the strings of his guitar, snickering like they knew something good. A booze busted baritone started in on Haggard\u2019s \u201cMama Tried.\u201d Jake knew they were waiting for him to go off, but Jake knew how to work a room. He steadied himself, waited for the chorus and jumped in making the cop sound like something.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Silence. Jake waited a tick.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou boys know this one?\u201d Jake took a chance these old farts were sentimental and sang the opening to the Sons of the Pioneers song, \u201cCool Water.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cThis ain\u2019t no Sing Along with Mitch, boy.\u201d snarled the one without Betsey.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNow wait a minute Bob, my daddy loved that song, but I never could get it right. Can you play it, boy?\u201d He walked over to the cell door Betsey in hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy yes sir, I can.\u201d Jake kept the smirk off his face as the cop studied him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cStep to the back of the cell.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jake did as he was told as the cop opened the door, laid Betsey on the floor and locked the cell again. He picked her up and studied her quick. Betsey was a bit out of tune, but no harm done. Jake proceeded to show the cop the chords and then played the tune, letting him take the melody with Jake adding the harmony on the chorus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMerciful heaven,\u201d thought Jake as they finished, \u201cWhat a chestnut.\u201d But they let him keep Betsey and the price of the nightly hootenanny was not too high to pay for Betsey. She was a comfort once the whiskey started leaving his body. He could con the cops out of Betsey, but not out of an \u201coff-duty\u201d brew. Fair enough. He knew the drill and drank as much water as he could tolerate, ate what he could, took the aspirin he could beg and was grateful the sweats and shakes weren\u2019t too bad and didn\u2019t last too long.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The bad part was having to remember. Without JD, there was Montana, the ranch and his Daddy. It would come back to him in a dream, which was not much of a dream, seeing as how it happened. It would always start with the good times. Mama alive, the ranch strong, him helping Daddy with the horses; it was the life he thought he\u2019d have forever. They\u2019d talked about it, the three of them, heading back to the ranch after doing the shopping in town or selling stock at an auction. How the ranch would come to him some day, how they were building something together that would stand the test of time. Then Mama died of the cancer and Daddy crawled into the bottle to stay. Jake worked hard to keep the place going, but it was too big for even a strong young man to handle alone. Daddy just kept letting bits of the place slip through his fingers, crying sorry to Jake each time. Like that made anything better; but Jake loved his daddy and tried to be strong enough for two. Yet the more of the ranch was sold, the more Daddy drank and the meaner he got. Daddy would say things that hurt his heart. Jake tried to think hard on how things used to be, what his Mama would say if she were here, and let the hard words go by, if only for her sake. Still, he could see the ranch would soon be gone no matter how hard he worked, and a man can only stand so much before even ghosts can\u2019t help him hold off what pride demands a man do. The dream would always end with that morning Daddy came staggering into the barn to tell him he\u2019d just sold what was left of the ranch, right down to Jake\u2019s horse, and it was time for Jake to leave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCan\u2019t live off me anymore, boy, like some kinda damn leech.\u201d Jake heard him say those hateful words again, watched him try to stand without weaving, reeking of cheap moonshine and failure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou done failed me boy.\u201d Jake felt the sorrow and rage take over as he\u2019d hit his Daddy, dropping him straight to the ground. He\u2019d stepped over Daddy, thrown Betsey and his things in his truck and taken off without even a glance in the rearview mirror. With a gasp Jake would wake, raw with the broken heart he\u2019d drug all over the West. There was nothing to stop him from thinking about the stable jobs he\u2019d taken when he could get them, how it felt taking care of someone else\u2019s horses. Mad as he was, he\u2019d called his Daddy a couple of times, once from Oklahoma, another time from Arizona, but Daddy always hung up on him. The last time he tried the line was disconnected and he knew the ranch was gone for sure. That\u2019s when he started singing in bars, Jack Daniels became his best buddy and the dreaming stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Thirty days later, the jailer turned the lock for the last time and walked Jake to the impound lot to collect his car.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIf you know what\u2019s good for you, you\u2019ll be on your way right away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhy I\u2019m touched at your concern for my well-being, sheriff, and I\u2019m grateful for the free detox courtesy of the good people of Fluvanna, indeed I am.\u201d The sheriff smirked and handed him the keys.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cJust \u2018cause you can strum a guitar don\u2019t make you shit, boy. Get outta town and don\u2019t dawdle if you know what\u2019s good for you. I ain\u2019t gonna tell you again.\u201d As the cop walked away, Jake looked around noticing the impound lot and the police parking lot were one and the same. He stowed Betsey behind the passenger seat, slid behind the wheel and turned the key, nothing. Tried a second time, nothing. The cop stopped and slowly turned around. Jake jumped out of the car and opened the hood. He fiddled with a few things as cops gathered, yucking it up. Soon Jake was dragging tools out of the back and lying under the engine banging around and swearing a blue streak. The cops carried on until, bored, they drifted off into the station. Jake waited until he was sure they weren\u2019t watching, scooted out from under the car. Pulling out a large gas can and piece of hose he kept stowed in the truck, he ran over to a cruiser angled away from the building and proceeded to siphon off a full can of gas. Back behind the wheel, the old truck fired right up, and Jake rolled out of town toward the county highway. He reached out and snapped on the radio. They were playing \u201cMoonshiner\u201d, one of JD\u2019s favorite drinking songs. Reaching under the seat, Jake found the pint taped right where he\u2019d left him for just such an occasion. Cracking the seal, he paused. It would start up again, the waking up in strange places, the black outs, living from bottle to bottle. Then JD whispered to him of lonely women, good times with no dreams. He thought how he\u2019d just taken the Fluvanna City cops, and he leaned out the window and hollered out loud and long. Just this one, just a bit of celebrating was all. Willie, JD and Jake crossed the county line singing the chorus in perfect three-part harmony.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019m a gambler, I\u2019m a rambler<\/em> Jake was careening down another empty westbound Texas highway having taken yet another flipper in the face from the Pinball Game of Life. All he wanted was a better bounce, a few more points and some extra play. With his best drinking buddy JD at his side and a long string of dumb ass decisions … Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1209,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_hide_featured_image":false,"_jetpack_featured_image_duplicate_dismissed":0,"_jetpack_feature_clip_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"nfd_image_url":"","nfd_onboarding_generated":"","footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1141","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/11\/emily-gold-2cKVdzgOqbE-unsplash.jpg?fit=1920%2C1280&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1141","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1141"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1141\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1169,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1141\/revisions\/1169"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1209"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1141"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1141"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underwoodpress.com\/truechili\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1141"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
I\u2019m a long way from home<\/em>
And if you don\u2019t like me<\/em>
Just leave me alone<\/em>
I\u2019ll eat when I\u2019m hungry<\/em>
I\u2019ll drink when I\u2019m dry<\/em>
And the moonshine don\u2019t kill me I\u2019ll live till I die<\/em>
And the moonshine don\u2019t kill me<\/em>
I\u2019ll live till I die<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n
She was born in Chicago, IL, many things happened and she now finds herself in Raleigh, NC, with her two retired racing Greyhounds, Empress Sue and Queen Maeve. While she’s mostly lived in big cities, her family is from Kentucky and never lost touch with country life. Should you become acquainted she might tell you of when Great Grand Dad, for her first equine experience, threw her on Joe without a saddle and with a rope bridal \u2013 the tale of the outcome became a family favorite at every gathering. She feels you should know she has a BA in Eng Lit with honors from Northwestern University.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"