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New Writings

The Internet ruined everything.
Once upon a time, a teller of tales, like myself, could simply say what he wanted and no one would be any the wiser.
But not anymore.

If I told a story, for example, about the time I had lunch with Sugar Ray Leonard and Dan Rather at Governor Edward's mansion in Baton Rouge in 1978, people can go on the Internet and find out if that is true or not.
Maybe Dan Rather was no where near Louisiana in 1978 or Sugar Ray was training for some big fight in Africa that year and there is no way that he could have been breaking bread with me in the Deep South.

So these days a storyteller has to be extra careful.
Because without belief in the story, you have no story.

This is why I blame the Internet for putting an unfair burden on all of us who like to spin a good yarn. Exaggerating details and incidents for effect is laden with danger.
Your cover can be blown and your story right along with it.

Most of my stories I've told many times in many circumstances.
I suppose, over time, some of the facts may have been shifted around and some of the players changed too.
But until the Internet came along, I never had to worry about such things.

All right, sometimes perhaps, my motivations in telling my tales may have been slightly self-serving.

It is possible that I told some stories, because they might make me sound interesting to someone I fancied.
It just might be the case that I made myself appear cool and collected in a firestorm, when all around me were lost to panic and fright.
It could be argued, conceivably, that I wanted to pretend I had experience with some supernatural strangeness to impress some friends.
Maybe I hoped to come across as a reticent, unsung hero in a time of great danger to show off my bravery for the bedazzlement of the ladies.

I admit to that. I am not particularly proud of that fact, but it is the way it is.

But here you have it anyway. These are 'The Lies I've Told' most often in my life.
I cannot tell them aloud so much anymore, but more about that later.

So, go ahead. Start your infernal search engines, if you must.
And let the fries fall into the fat fryer as they may.

Ralph E. Waldo