GRAVETTE — I was driving along when I heard a song on the radio about drinking, playing poker, fighting and stealing horses. I was jolted; I figured I knew that feller!

His name was Thomas and he lived down south of town when I was a kid. They finally wrote a song about old Tom! Well, probably not, but I have lived so long I can recall about any kind of actions a feller can think of, good or bad. I have known some real upright, godly men and I am thankful for their high water marks for me to try to match. My dear old Pappy was one of them.

The generation that has followed me has not lost out on colorful fellers; there seem to be plenty of them around. The rotten economy has painted some of the men that were not lily white to start with a lot of shades of the rainbow. I know of cattle rustlers today who would have thought of doing that several years ago but wouldn’t have actually backed in and loaded them out. Stealing a tractor is a slow process, apt to get caught at any minute, but tractors aregone when the feller who owns them shows up.

I realize that living in a city is somewhat different than the kind of lives we live out here, but they have their own breed of outlaws and we have ours. Theirs seem to be mean and even deadly all the time. Ours are usually good old boys who need the money. Not always, but some of the crooks are our neighbor’s kin that don’t really mean to be bad, just don’t enjoy working. We all understand that, and if the feller that has sticky fingers can be clean and decent, we will still speak to him on the street. Inviting the feller to church and offering to pick up his offspring for VBS is a common act in our county. Suspecting the dirty doings is just not enoughto condemn a man.

So, you can see, our outlaws are still human in our country, most of them anyway. They hold the door at the grocery store open for ladies, buy you a cup of coffee at the emporium, vote on the sheriff and county judges and wave at you on the road. We don’t hang a sign on them that says thiefor robber; it would clash with their colors!

I suppose the country music I listen to has brought all of this to my mind. I like the music, can’t say I really care for any other kind some call music. Of course, I also like beef, beans, biscuits and pie, where some folks might like octopus, sushi, sprouts and French water. Different folks are all welcome to their tastes and I would fight for their right, just don’t want their food or their outlaws.

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I wouldn’t trade my life for any other. I like my own outlaws, floods, droughts, ticks and chiggers. I like them lots better than any other’s is what I mean.

I heard we had an earthquake awhile back, but it was better than other quakes I know about.My sneaky snakes are awful but they won’t try to squeeze a feller to death; coyotes howl but they won’t lie in the ponds and wait for a feller to stick in a toe and swaller him up like gators do. Yes, I mean to say “swaller,” not swallow.

I know we all have warts and our country has some of its own, but I figure we ought to stay where our outlaws are friendly!

Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column. Contact him at Billsopinions.com.

Opinion, Pages 6 on 04/11/2012