So, the Big Red Car is a writer, published no less. As a writer, I attend writers’ groups in which you read others work, besmirch them with red ink, write indecipherable comments, drink extra large lattes, and your work gets read and savaged.

Haha, it doesn’t get savaged. Sometimes, it just sucks. Sorry.

But, sometimes, some little piece will be written with some standards or you do a little exercise.

Feedlots, wherein cows are fattened for market, are a nasty piece of business. Do not hang out down wind from a feedlot. When I think of Lubbock, I think of feedlots and a westerly wind. Ugh! The Feed Lot is a story of war, lost youth, the stench of Vietnam, a feedlot, and Lubbock.

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