MISSISSIPPI MAN

The other day I saw a young man writing in his journal at a forty-five degree angle. It was such a curious thing to do. So much so that I cannot get it out of my mind. This young man had long wavy hair and a rugged brown beard. He wore a small cowboy hat, a dark red flannel, jeans, and dress boots. I encountered him in an eccentric little coffee shop in Tupelo, Mississippi. He reminded me of a certain character I used to know. 

Here was this Southern man, full of youth and vigor. Who knows a thing or two about livestock, hunting, and fishing. Who can build a house and fix an old pickup truck. He is sitting quietly in a coffee shop thinking intently and writing. 

This man knows the value of solitude. He believes in certainty. He is an explorer of the past, and an alchemist of tomorrow. While the world and its fleeting pleasures pass by he will be here, preserving the good, righting wrongs, upholding virtue, and confounding ignorance. He will speak the truth, and the truth will set them free.