From farm boy to wild ass hippie, smuggling pot, working the Mississippi. Later a family and responsibility, I learned a lot about human fragility. There's Innocence and banditry, there's tragedy and vanity. Tales of me, and tales of fiction, I tell it all without restriction.

Rookie Reefer Bandidos

Finn spins a captivating memoir story about two college freshman with a wild ass drug smuggling scheme. It’s the spring of 1970 and hippy culture is in full bloom. After a road trip down Route 66 to Arizona in a ’55 Chevy, their plan is to import at least fifty pounds of marijuana from Mexico to Massachusetts over spring break. If they make it, the pot smoking hippies could each make a cool couple of grand. Plan B is prison.

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Earning my Wages

 I was eleven years old and pretty happy that we’d moved into town off the family farm. There was a lot more happening in my city neighborhood than out in the country, where all I had were two sisters and a brother to play and fight with. In town we could play ball any day at the empty lot across the street, go out at night soaping windows, or maybe toss a few eggs at passing cars and hide behind bushes if we were feeling really adventurous. All in all, the big city of 35,000 was a much more socially enriching environment.

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Billy Jewel and the Fish and the Vietnam War

Another road trip in the Fun Loving Finn series, this one finds Finn and friends heading southeast from Missouri to Florida. Finn got a good number in the crazy Vietnam lottery and decides to learn something about life in the real world and drops out of college.

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Finn Tames the Riverboat Rat

 I like idiomatic expressions or, more simply ”sayings.“ Everybody knows, “Variety is the spice of life!” I always thought it referred to sex, but my sister says they’re talking about food. That one seems to have a universal application, but not all of them do. “Drunker than old Cooter Brown.” That one’s pretty local as far as I know, referring to a famous drunk somewhere around rural Missouri.

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Big Bad Buck Sheep

When I try to remember stories from my years on the farm, thinking drama and excitement, not a lot comes back at first.  I mean there were a lot of boring days when I had just my sisters, one older and one younger, and my little brother to do anything with, and my brother was five years younger, so pretty useless—sorry Bro, but you know it’s the truth.  Things really picked up when we moved into town, particularly because there were a lot of kids on our block and an empty lot right across the street where everyone got together to play baseball and football and learn to cuss.

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