by Gordon Baxter
A friend of memoirist Baxter once told him that "if I was a real redneck, drove a pickup, lived in the backwoods, drank muddy water and slept in a holler log, then I'd have to chaw. In my heart I knew he was right. We call them Hardin County Racing Stripes, those long, streamlined stains down the side of a pickup." Baxter had a radio show in Port Arthur, Texas for 31 years and now writes for newspapers and magazines. This autobiography is a confession of astonishing candor—the man is utterly without shame, modesty or taste. He handles his midlife crisis by outrageously chasing women and flying airplanes all over East Texas. What energy, what enthusiasm! There is a gem to provide delight or offense on practically every single one of Village Creek's 318 pages. (Summit, $11.95)
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