In response to the publication of my story in Waccamaw, my former professor, Colonel Padgett Powell, sent me an email that read, "For God's sake do not let Wilson write, in public, 'The murders made my wife and I irritable...' Please. I weep and tear my hair."
I attempted to make up for this lapse in grammar by telling the colonel that I had dedicated an upcoming story to him and then told him the title. He wrote back five minutes later to inform me that the title was grammatically incorrect. At this rate, Powell will not have any hair left.
Padgett came to our cabin a few years ago to fish and camp out and we went to Hammer's, a variety general store in Winchester that has Carhartt double knee work pants next to a pyramid of Duke's mayonnaise. There was a random shopping cart in the middle of the store filled with Flecktarn camouflage German field caps. If I have made a better purchase in my life, I would like to know what it is. It was apparently designed to not fit any known human head shape. If Padgett doesn't wear his cap for his next author photo, I'll be very, very surprised.