Growing up in Copan, Oklahoma in the late 1960s was an oblique shot through the American Experience. My friends and I were lost in the sticks and we didn’t care. Our lives revolved around cars, motorcycles, girls, beer, adventure and risk. Love was fleeting and heartbreak was guaranteed. The freedom in that rustic setting, however, was palpable and real.
The place was miles from nowhere. The vast prairie spread out forever. It was Indian Country. I saw things that changed my life – changed it for the good, and cast it into the bad. I experienced elation and loss. I squandered the gifts of kings. I did things for which I still pay the price.
This is the story of a punk kid straddling the blurred and crooked line separating adolescence from adulthood. It’s about life on the border between somewhere and nowhere. It’s a description of time beautifully wasted.
Stephen R. Cox was born in Oklahoma. He now lives in New Mexico.
He was in the military. He has a BBA from West Texas A&M and an MA from the University of Colorado in Boulder. Both schools employ a buffalo as their mascots.
His favorite writers are Jack London, Ernest Hemingway, Hunter S. Thompson, Cormac McCarthy and Stephen King. He includes McCarthy and King despite the fact they occasionally sip their own bathwater – something he would never do unless he was dying of thirst, then he would sip the hell out of it. Dr. Thompson is on the list more for his outrageousness than for his writing.