Way back in the bad old days, I rode wild horses, chased wild women, wormed my way into a Mexican jail, associated with Arkansas bandits—all ugly episodes of misadventure in uncivilized environs.

I have told lies that would stand up in court (for a day or two at least). I have been bitten by snakes and small children. I didn’t have much hope that the prognosis would improve in my favor in the not too distant future.

 But, I have some good friends (both old and new), I survived rabies and several altercations involving muscle cars, whetstone sharpened knives, machine guns and the occasional hand grenade episodes. I made it past malaria and black water fever. I’ve been deceitful to both my ex-wives and local officials. I have insulted and intimidated my neighbors with shotguns and a banjo. I have worked mules until they were worthless except for the soap and dog food value. 

I have written and published and been paid for telling lies in a family-oriented newspaper and none of the above ever touched the remains of my already deficient conscience. 

Well, now it has finally caught up with me—karmic justice in it’s purest form. The curse of the laptop, with strange habits and an independent theology has convinced me that I ain’t seen nothing yet.

As if the darn computer don’t wreak enough mental havoc, there is a printer that is equally single-minded, like a mule with blinders.

I missed the deadline last week because I was careless enough to purchase a contraption that is smarter than I am and has the attitude of an Arkansas mule combined with that of a Mexican jackass, two politicians and a pair of ex-wives.

Well, I bought the darn thing and there’s no turning back now. I’m stuck with it and if y’all wish to continue to read this mess you will have to bear with me until I get this spawn of satan figured out.

Meanwhile I’m working on making reservations for a vacation down at Whitfield and am ordering my own personal straitjacket  after I go on a shooting spree on the laptop and printer. If you don’t hear anything from me from time to time you’ll know that I’m on R & R in the rubber room where hopefully they withhold or ban electronic devices. 

I will be counting flowers on the wall and seeing Jimmy Stewart in a giant rabbit suit or thinking about going into politics, which is insanity in its purist form.

Actually I seldom, if ever, shoot anything that I can’t eat, but I am seriously considering making an exception in this case.

Out of touch and out of mind,

Ricky Harpole