Chapter 1: Call me 'Chief'

I've never really tried writing fiction before. But since I haven't been writing a weekly opinion/humor column anymore, I have been considering things to write. Most writers are always musing about writing the great American novel. I don't know that I'm up for that. But I do think it would be fun to experiment with short stories, sort of vignettes and character sketches.

You can read everything I have done all in one place at GoodReads, or by searching for just the Hometown NEWS posts on this blog.

Here's the obligatory disclaimer- all the characters here aren't strictly based on anyone or meant to libel or defame anyone, although, let's face it- several of them may be composites of people I've encountered. Since it's just for fun, don't expect there do be updates daily or even with any regularity- but I hope to add to it at least each week. We'll see.

And here are my impressions of a small Midwestern town from a transplant from the coast; What's bewildering, bewitching and unbelievable about being in a town under 600.


My name is William James Garner. I guess my mother wanted me to someday become a psychologist or a philosopher. Most people around here call me "Chief."

I grew up in Cave Creek, Arizona. Most of my life it had a population under 4,000. It was the ugly twin brother of a town called Carefree, of the Gordon Lightfoot song, "Carefree Highway."

But they don't call me "Chief" because I'm a Native American. My father was a large animal veterinarian who served clients in Carefree. My mother was a hostess at a highway diner right on the border between the towns.

Carefree was the posh, trendy tourist town full of boutiques and art galleries frequented by snow birds. Snow birds were affluent retirees from cold, flat places like Iowa, Nebraska, and Minnesota. Cave Creek was less friendly to outsiders and highly protected by it's natives. Cave Creek had hot air balloon festivals. Cave Creek had wet tee-shirt contests. Carefree had get-away ranches owned by Hollywood honchos like Lucille Ball and Dick Van Dyke. Cave Creek had ramshackle ranch style homes build by actual ranch hand who took care of the horses that the TV and movie stars rode once or twice a year. Carefree boasted a five star restaurant with seven course meals. Cave Creek had 'the Horny Toad and the satisfied frog,' a bar and grill that fed and watered weary cowboys and thirsty bikers.

When I was growing up, our towns were way out in the boonies, somewhere North of the Phoenix area and South of Dead Horse Gulch and Skunk Creek. For the last decade or so, Phoenix and it's more high brow suburb, Scottsdale have been in a race to see who could connect to the New Age mecca of Sedona first. Scottsdale has pretty much absorbed Care Free and Phoenix has all but swallowed Cave Creek. The Care Free Highway is little more than an expressway connecting State Highway 89 and I-17.

But this story isn't about where I'm from, originally. It's about where I am now.