Today begins year number 55 for the Mr. Most never believed he could make it this far. Not because he lacks ambition but because he has copious quantities of ambition. Telling all of the stories of Pete would be a novel equivalent of War and Peace so I’ll just start in the beginning.
Pete was born in small town Arkansas to a Cumberland Presbyterian Minister. Well, that’s kind of a lie. Actually Clayton was born but Pete evolved. I suppose that most of his friends have no idea what his real name is. He adopted the name “Pete” as a child and it just stuck though it is not his legal name. It seems he had an affinity for “Black Pete the Pirate” hence the name. They originally referred to him as “Black Pete” but since he was a skinny white boy this became awkward and was shortened to just “Pete”. The name stuck so well that when he went to get his first driver’s license he had to ask the DMV to change it to his legal name as they automatically listed him as “Pete”.
My Mr. was child number four in a herd of five. Growing up as a preacher’s kid he felt the need to provide sermon topics for his Father. You would think this would be appreciated but alas it was not. He grew up with horses and pigs at the family home. Well, the pigs were in the pin. He slept in the house though I’m not sure you could say he “lived” there. Living was done outside. His Father raised Appaloosa horses, preached at a couple different churches and ran the local feed store. I’m pretty sure this is where Pete got his ambition from.
Pete had a great love for the horses and as a very young man received his first horse named Cindy. He would ride Cindy everywhere. She was his best Gal. Saturday nights were spent with the Lockesburg Rough Riders with his buddies as old Bob Wills tunes blared over the speakers. The country life was a different way of living that he did not give up easily. If a young lady was to capture the attention of Pete in the early Seventies she would have been treated to a date at the drive in movies. Um…on the back of his horse.
Modernization is an enemy of Pete’s and he has been drug the whole way. His Father finally forced him to get a driver’s license and drive a real vehicle much to his dismay.
As a teenager he was allowed to work at the feed store loading heavy bags into the local’s trucks. The feed store was a popular hangout for the old men in town. Pete gained much knowledge from these old men. Not all of it can be used in modern society but it was knowledge none the less. Wisdom was doled out by Doc, Buttermilk, Coon, Porkchop, 99 and Woof Woof. Yes, this is the names they were known by. The old crew didn’t put much stock in Pete ever making it to the age of 18. In fact they put so little stock in the idea that they kept a coffee can on top of the coke machine at the feed store. Everytime Pete did something stupid the old men would decide that “Pete aint comin’ back this time” and would toss their loose change into the can. The hope was to save enough money to put flowers on his grave when he finally killed himself. Alas, he fooled them all. When he turned eighteen the old men were so shocked they had no choice but to present him with the money.
I wonder what those old men would say today if they knew he made it to the age of 55?