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James R. Stout

Blog posts July 2020


            I have always liked instrumentals. The fifties had quite a few great ones including songs like “Pour People of Paris”, “Tequila”, and “Sleepwalk”. But in my opinion the golden age of instrumentals was during the sixties. The decade started with an instrumental reigning the number 1 spot …

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One of Life's Mysteries

            Life is filled with mysteries. Some of them are fascinating and thrilling to ponder, while others leave a burden, no matter how small, for us to consider for decades. It’s one of the latter that I will tell you about today. Maybe you’ve had something similar in your life and you can enli…

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The What If Game

            Have you ever played the “what if” game? Of course, you have. I think that everybody has played that game at some point in their life. I know some people who claim to have absolutely no regrets in their life. While that would be nice, I just don’t think it’s possible to not have a few re…

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NOT The Deer Hunter

            It was November of 1969 and I was 14-years-old. I had never been deer hunting before and I went with my father, uncle, and two cousins to my grandparent’s farm on opening day of deer season. A cold front came through the day before, so we were prepared for a brisk first day. My father an…

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            I have often mentioned my love for reading. It’s been a lifelong love affair. I remember reading “Little Golden” books from about the age of 4 or 5. Big words sometimes got in the way and my mother repeated something to me from an early age that she did until the last year of her life. I…

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A Moment In Eternal Time

            Sometime in the mid-30’s my grandparents added on to their house a bedroom that became known as “the sleeping porch”. It was a real bedroom, but three of the walls were mostly windows. I have some of the old windows now with plans to mate them with my photography. The bedroom was shared …

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I'll Be Hornswoggled

            I do not recall when certain rules around our house were first imparted to me when I was a kid. However, I most certainly recall the consequences of breaking those rules. One of the rules that had no room for interpretation or movement was related to the language that we used. Under no c…

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Wild Thang and The Buick

            The neighborhood that I grew up in had some interesting characters. But hands, no, make that paws, down the most interesting character in the neighborhood was an orange tabby cat that was strapped with the name, “Wild Thang”. Let me tell you, that cat was indeed wild. He had little to no…

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