Telling Stories on the Front Porch

And this old porch is like a weathered, gray-haired Seventy Years of Texas — Lyle Lovett and Robert Earl Keen   We sat on the front porch in early July. A steady western breeze and low humidity sliced the edge off the 90-degree afternoon. We sipped beer. I listened and took notes as the three men and two women swapped stories, out in the blacklands of Central Texas. I balanced my laptop on my knees, taking a tighter grip when Miles the collie came by to nuzzle my hand. Miles and I became fast friends, after I spent much of a previous visit kicking his soccer ball and waiting...

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