George Jones was born in Saratoga, Texas, which is a small town I've worked in. He lived there, in Beaumont, Kountze and Vidor, which are three towns that are found in the southeast corner of Texas.
I was never a big bar hopper, so I never ran across George in any of the local taverns. I have friends that did; some even shot pool with George. He was well liked and notorious for the amount he drank. I never heard an unkind word about the man, although I did have a brother-in-law that would have had a reason.
My brother-in-law, Jim, was helping clear some acreage for the Sam's Club. As they cleared what was some old growth, they found many fine oaks, and other hardwoods, which they cut for firewood. The cords were sold to anyone that happened by. The demand was high, so advertisement was unnecessary.
Jim was cutting up a red oak, when he noticed a motor home stop on the highway. Not paying much attention to the man that left the coach, he continued until the man walked up. When he turned, he found the man looked familiar. He realized who he was when the man stuck out his hand and introduced himself as George Jones.
George asked if the tree was red oak. When he found out it was, he placed an order for two cords and said he'd be back in a few days.
After a week, Jim decided George would never come back and sold the two cords of firewood to the next buyer that came by.
Jim would smile and shake his head when he told the story. At that time, George was developing the reputation as "No Show Jones", and it was a true description considering Jim's experience. Jim didn't mind. He liked the idea he met George Jones and said he was a helluva a nice guy.
In Case You've Wondered
My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.
If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com
One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.
I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.