At this moment, you might think I'm tapping the keypad, deep and focused on this week's message. Not quite.
I am tapping said keypad, but my mind is deep into an imaginary margarita in celebration of getting my and my dear mother's taxes done. Yes, October 15 is--was--Tax Day.
Did you know? Kentuckians in disaster affected counties from floods and tornadoes were given automatic extensions to complete federal and state 2024 tax returns. I found out around noon last April 15 when I figured I'd put the tax chores off long enough.
As any master procrastinator would, I put our various forms and statements back in the 2024 box and forgot. Until I was reminded yesterday the deadline was today which was Wednesday to you. There was a column due, too.
It's the kind of day a super procrastinator such as myself lives for. One, two, three big chores. Things that have to get done with one deadline. Midnight. Go.
So that was where I was at about 2:30 this afternoon. Right now, let me get back to my mental margarita. I've gotten my federal and state, and I've gotten my mother's federal and state tax returns filed and it's 2 hours before midnight. I should probably have a mental enchilada while I'm at it.
I've been in a celebratory mood lately. Monday was my 67th birthday, the weekend was about perfect, and I got to play music with friends. It's whitewater season for goodness sake. There's plenty to worry about in my world, but the light still shines. Celebrate your blessings.
Before I get serious about getting this third chore finished, I'm raising my imaginary cocktail to the great eastern Kentuckian, Gurney Norman. Gurney's stories of growing up in the mountains are glorious pictures of the various oddities of real life from the coal camps to the county seats.
I was blessed to spend a few months studying, practicing and learning writing with Gurney at UK in 1981-82. He introduced us to Bobbie Ann Mason and Ed McClanahan, played homemade recordings of Neil Cassady and Ken Kesey, and subtly herded a younger group of writers and other creatives with the Thursday Afternoon Social Club. After class, we gathered for $2 pitchers at the Gold Star Chili across from campus.
Years later, after I'd returned to Elkhorn City and worked over at Appalshop in the mid-90s I reconnected with Gurney and was pleasantly surprised he even remembered me. But he seemed to have better memories of me than I had of me, which was really the kind of person he was.
He married Elkhorn City native Nyoka Hawkins around that time. Whenever I encountered him he'd be sure to remind me he'd gotten one of those Elkhorn girls with a glint in his eye. That's certainly worth celebrating, so I'll raise my imaginary glass one more time and suggest you read "Kinfolk" as soon as you possibly can.
But before I read it again, it's time for the last chore. I've put this week's column off as long as I can. Midnight's around the corner. Time to focus on this week's message.