About Me

I'm just an old guy who's been watching the scene for quite a long while, having come along just in time for the Great Depression. Those who are unfamiliar with that term are welcome to look it up. Though not scholarly by nature, I still managed to finish college (though not in four years or even five) and have been fortunate in getting to engage in a diversity of occupations - construction/farm laborer, U.S. Navy, newspaper sportswriter and columnist, radio disk-jockey and sportscaster, schoolteacher, full-time "church worker," railroader (Don't all boys/men love to play with trains?) - and so I've had the opportunity to see things from both the white- and blue-collar perspectives, as well as those of the sacred and secular. I sort of wish I'd made at least a small fortune along the way, but that didn't happen, unfortunately.

Reading, writing, and music are my passions. In addition to columns (even letters to editors once in a while), novels, and poetry, I like to write short stories. Some products structured through these interests are noted on this site. The most intensive of my passions, however, is reserved for the writing of hymns, my first love among the abstracts created by the Created. Some of them will be presented here, as well, and offered for use by anyone. I hope my Christian faith informs everything I do, though I make no claims to spiritual proficiency, much less perfection.

It is said that we are what we eat, although I assume what we drink and breathe should have some bearing on the subject of existence. Strong coffee and deep, dark chocolate are my addictions, while peanut butter and potatoes are my vegetables of formation. Okay, most folks don't believe either one to be a vegetable, but who cares anyway...unless, of course, someone can actually define self or others on the basis of victual-preference. Thankfully, I can't, but I've noticed the stares of others when I've crumbled a whole Hershey bar on my Raisin Bran, another vegetable that those staring ones will call a grain, something of which they insist I have not one of, with respect to common sense.

And so it goes.

Jim Clark