Lessons from the mustangs and Jim

Out 'N The Woods Again

Many moons ago, while be'n a glutton for punishment, I made a trip to the wild horse corrals near Sparks, Nevada to get a couple of broomtails. While wait'n on things to happen, I noticed a black man showed up to guard the gate. Seemed a little bored there all by himself. He had to check on everyone's invite 'cause some radicals were lurk'n about to disrupt proceedings.

Anyway, I moseyed over to chat with him, introduced myself, he likewise sez his name was Jim. I shook his hand, looked him in the eye to let him know I meant it. No sense beat'n around the bush. I asked him if he had a spiritua...


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