One of the things I'm known for around here is telling stories. I like to speak to small groups because I get a little nervous when the crowd is more than ten or so. Years ago one of my boys gave me a piece of advice that has served me well when the audience is large. He noticed that whenever I rode an elevator I always struck up a conversation even with total strangers. He said I should just pretend I was on a real big elevator. And it worked. It was better advice than the one I read where a speaker is supposed to imagine the audience was all sitting there in their underwear. I tried that out and got tickled at the ones who were wearing long johns. When I tell these little tales I speak in a down home voice and pay little attention to the rules of grammar. As some of you who have read this little blog right from the beginning will remember I insisted that Hollis use the same language on this blog as I use when I tell my stories. Dorothy has taken over typing things in and since she was an English teacher she cleans it up a bit, but not completely I'm happy to say. The stories I tell are based on true happenings, mainly. I don't lie a lot. When I was a young'n mammas and daddies would say, "Are you telling a story?" That meant are you lying. Now and then, well mostly, I change the names of people who are still living or have close relatives who are still living, unless what I'm saying is extremely complimentary. Of course, that circumstance is rare. Anyway, thanks for reading my stories and if you want a taste of the language I use when I talk to a group start back at the beginning of this blog.
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