FOR NEW READERS:

Welcome to my autobiography. I appreciate you stopping by for a look see. I hope you will stay long enough to enjoy what you find here.

LAST TIME:

After feasting on McMuffins at McDonald's, and sharing a lengthy conversation, Dusty West and I parted company. I returned to Hermitage Hall, and I had no clue what became of him.


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Dusty West vacationed for two weeks in the Pocono Mountains. While there he enjoyed several rounds of 18-holes played at the Buck Hill Golf Resort. He also favored whitewater rafting on Lake Wallenpaupack and explored the Hickory Run State Park and Boulder Fields, as well as many other leisures.

Now it was 9:30pm on Saturday night and he was back at the Nashville Palace on Music City Drive. As usual, the popular tourist destination was packed. The house band Zelder Mill rocked the stage.

Seated at the end of the bar, Dusty West nursed another whiskey sour and observed a long time acquaintance mouth to him from across the room, "Sounding good tonight, Dude."

As the sound and lighting engineer for the establishment, Dusty West prided himself on the quality of his work, and that the crowd enjoyed the live performances at the Palace. There was nothing like good food and even better Country music. Not in Nashville, any way.

Several dancers gyrated to the beat of the music being performed. Contented, Dusty West sat back, relaxed, and soaked up the pleasant evening. He finished the drink in the glass he held in his hand and called the bartender's attention for another round. Three was his limit while he was on the clock though.

"Okay, Dusty, I've known you well for the last four years my friend. And, I know you only guzzle your drinks when there's something important on your mind. So, out with it already. What's gnawing at you tonight?" Travis McCormack questioned him. He placed another full glass on the bar in front of Dusty.

"Sometimes the darnedest things happen when you least expect them to, amigo," Dusty responded. He never had any problem opening up to the barkeeper.

"Let me guess. You've been offered work somewhere else, right?" McCormack asked him, "You're always moving up in the world, aren't'cha?"

"If you stay stagnant you tend to fizzle out," Dusty laughed and answered his friend's question with, "no, nothing like that's happening, Travis. To tell the truth, I've met someone I can't get off my mind."

"Do I hear the wedding march "dum, dum, de dum" in your future, you sly mongrel you?" McCormack wondered stating, "That would be a shocker around here. One to definitely stop the presses."

"Me get married? I never say never, but you know me better than that, Travis," Dusty replied, "that's not going to happen, at least, not in this life time."

"Okay, now you've got my curiosity up," McCormack told him, "but first let me go pour these guys another round." He pointed to two customers signaling to him, poured their drinks, returned back to Dusty, and told him, "I'm all ears."

"I met this kid panhandling at Wal-Mart on Nolensville Pike and I bought him lunch at McDonald's," Dusty began.

"Holy s - - -!" McCormack exclaimed stunned by the news, "I'm not sure I like the sound of where this is going, Dusty, but, go ahead and get it off your chest, I guess. Man, you play with fire you're gonna get burned."

"He's a boy from Hermitage Hall," Dusty admitted.

"The plot thickens, Dusty, but, the question is have you lost your ever loving gobstopper mind?" McCormack wanted to know.

"Maybe I have and maybe I have not," Dusty responded, "I don't know. I'm not sure."

McCormack received another refill request from a customer at the bar He hurried away to pour the drink. Too curious as to what Dusty West had to tell him, he quickly returned to their conversation, "Continue your tale of woe, Dusty," he encouraged his running buddy, "this ought to be real good. How could you have possibly gotten yourself wrapped up in such a mess like that?"

"I only intended, out of the kindness of my heart you know, to help the kid out with something to eat," Dusty replied, "any way, he proceeds to detail quite a story to me about his past. What a doozy it was, too! The problem is, I believed every word of what he told me, Travis. Every single word of it. He seemed so sincere."

"They all do, Dusty, so once again I will ask you are you off your rocker or do you have a screw loose? Get a grip on reality, my friend, before it is way too late, cause right now you're way out there in La La Land somewhere!"

"I'm considering fostering him," Dusty confessed.

"Say what? Since when are you, of all the people in this world, willing to sacrifice your freedom? The very freedom you hold so near and dear no one can pry it away from you with a crowbar, especially for some kid you don't even know?" McCormack demanded, "I think you need a shrink. That's what I think! You've been working too hard."

"His name is Brett," Dusty West commented, "I need to go look at that squealing woofer." He handed his empty glass to the bartender and stepped down off his stool to attend to the nuisance that had arisen.

As Dusty departed, McCormack said, "Man, I hope for your sake that's just the whiskey talking and you return back to your senses pronto!" He slowly shook his head from side to side in disbelief of what he had been told, uttered, "Amazing!" and turned to service another patron.

Dusty West had heard much the same response from others he'd discussed this subject with. Everyone of them thought he was making a huge mistake. But, it was his error to make, wasn't it? That question required resolution.