| Writer & Photographer | Tuesday, 27 September 2016 - 5:15 |
My newest book, The Cows of Hobson’s Pond – Mostly True Stories of Growing up Kansas, is available today FREE on Amazon for Kindle!
If you read it, would you be so kind as to post a one or two sentence review on Amazon? The more reviews I receive, the more Amazon will help me market the book.
Here’s the link:
Please share with your friends!
I need people willing to review (and post honest comments online at Amazon) for my new book, The Cows of Hobson’s Pond: Mostly True Stories of Growing Up Kansas. If you are interested, I will send a FREE digital copy; I just need your email address.
Email me: rick.mcnary@gmail.com
Here’s the blurb on the cover the publisher wrote:
Somewhere, some cow’s therapist knows everything there is to know about Rick McNary.
For a bored child living in rural Kansas in the sixties, frolicking in Hobson’s Pond was as adventurous as being Jacques Cousteau on the Atlantic Ocean. In a country kid’s imagination, the pond teemed with exotic marine life, pirates and sunken treasure.
In reality, the pond was a muddy hole filled with finger-length catfish and grumpy old bullfrogs. In addition, The Cows of Hobson’s Pond believed they had the inalienable right to soak their udders in the water like it was a spa. Whenever Rick and his buddies went swimming, they had to run the cows out first. This frequently backfired and, instead, the cows chased them.
Rick pokes fun at himself, his family, the cows and life in rural Kansas. There are stories about how the cows were responsible for starting the streaking fad, the reason little boys should never practice medicine, why his brothers called him the Elmer Fudd of hunters and the day his Mom washed his mouth out with soap.
Laugh along with Rick who claims the stories are mostly true but, to avoid being sued, he changed a few names and made up the parts about the cows.
You’ve been knocked down a time or two in life, haven’t you? What made you get back up? What is the most crushing blow you’ve ever received? Bad news about your health? Someone walk out on you? Your best friend betray you? A trusted employee take all your money?
How did you stand back up after you were blind-sided? Was it your faith? The love of someone close? Grit?
You’ve gone through a rough time and came out the other side stronger and better and we want to know how you did it. We all have those rough times in our lives and, as we struggle through them, we want to know how people like you handled your own crisis.
We’re not nosy; we’re looking for guidance. Life is a contest and we are designed to win.
Your story matters to the world because you are a winner and we want to know how you did it
We love stories of people who win. In a few months, all eyes will be focused on the Olympics for one reason; we want to see who wins.
If you walk through the inspirational section of your local book store, you will see row after row of biographies and autobiographies of people who have won. I read them, not looking for another hero, but for the lessons they learned that made them win.
Spend a couple of minutes right now doing this exercise:
Now you have a simple outline of a story the world wants to hear.
We’re listening.
America was founded by farmers and I vote we turn it back over to them as soon as possible. I’d be happy to vote for a guy or gal in Levi’s and a Stetson or bib overalls compared to a greasy politician.
The vast majority of the new arrivals to early America were farmers who brought with them agriculture practices from the various countries of their origins. America became great because of those farmer’s ability to go from subsistence farming – growing enough for one’s own family – to growing enough to export it to other countries.
Although I grew up in the country surrounded by farmers and working on farms, I was never a farmer. I honestly don’t think I have the courage to be a farmer. I know of no other business that requires such great business risks, such hard work, such a massive attack on an industry from misinformed city-slickers, or such dependency on forces beyond their control (Mother Nature) as that of a farmer.
Today, I toast the American Farmer and celebrate them for making America great. Here are just a few reasons why:
By the way two dozen people started wailing and gnashing their teeth, you would have thought they just discovered they were left out of rich Uncle Smedley’s will.
I was standing in line at the Regan National Airport in DC watching a thunderstorm broil outside when the gate agent informed people that all the fights to Timbuktu and Kalamazoo had been cancelled.
Hell hath no fury like irate airlines passengers recently informed they will spend the night at their own expense in a strange city. Airlines won’t comp you a hotel if the weather causes a delay.
The crowd grew surly as people hurled insults at the gate agents.
I was tired, too. I wanted to go home, too. I had been working hard the past few days and sleeping poorly in a noisy hotel at night.
Then an old Glenn Campbell song started rattling around in my head:
You’ve got to try a little kindness, just show a little kindness, just shine your light for everyone to see. For if you try a little kindness, then you’ll overlook the blindness, of a narrow minded people on the narrow minded streets.
I stood in line behind a young hipster who whined incessantly that his world was coming to end because his flight was canceled. No, she told him, I can’t get you out of DC at all on any other flights tonight.
I approached the same agent with a smile on my face and told her she was doing a good job, that I felt sorry for her, and hoped she received hazard pay.
Well, lookey there, if I didn’t mind waiting there was a flight leaving later she could put me on.
And it just happened that she could give me an upgrade to first class for free.
I wonder what that hipster would have received had he just been nice.
