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Thank you for stopping by! This is a place for me to share what’s on my heart and my mind. Writing helps me to to coalesce my thoughts as well as allowing me to vent concerning the things that distress and outrage me. You may find my words amusing, satirical, pretentious, sarcastic, twisted, enlightening, inspiring, disturbing, offensive, enraging, or just plain boring. But I hope that they always are thought-provoking and that somewhere you can find a nugget of truth.

About The Author

Hi! My name is Jim Pruitt. But some call me…Jim. I was born at a very early age under the sign “Maternity Ward.” I like Mexican food, long romantic walks on the beach, and men who aren’t afraid to cry…thank you, thank you, I’m here all week…but seriously, folks…

I’m no one of any consequence. I have no degrees and I’m not an expert at anything at all. I’ve received no heavenly visions and I have no illusions of changing the world. I’m just your average Joe trying use a little common sense and not be a sucker. I don’t have all the answers but I know BS when I hear it. But as Bob Dylan once said, “you don’t have to be a weatherman to know which way the wind blows…”

I’m an endangered species. A man without a country, you might say. A white, middle-aged, conservative Christian who is gobsmacked that my peers put somebody like Trump in the White House. An amateur philosopher who reluctantly finds that his principles are forcing him into political activism. A man of passionate religious conviction but who would really rather be sitting on a beach somewhere with a frozen drink. A musician who’s played in churches, bars, and stages but still hasn’t found his musical “home.” A would-be writer who can’t decide whether to rage or laugh. Part Elijah…part Sam Kinison. Lunatic, firebrand, court jester…you decide…

So I’ve worn many “hats” over the course of my life…bass player, author, pastor, web consultant, jack-hammer operator, retail sales clerk, warehouse manager, “nuke” in the Navy, husband, and a father. Some might call it a broad and diverse life well-lived. Other’s might call it a lack of focus. Perhaps they’re both right.

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