According to Oris George.
I’d say he’s clueless, but then he’d make me prove it, and I might have a little trouble proving that chicken plucking old man didn’t have a clue.
Colors rage around the back roads.
Say the color red for instance… Well, we did mention plucking chickens.
Then there’s the color green, weeds growing in the ditches, along the canal, and out into the fields.
There’s the color gold, wheat dancing in the summer winds, drying on the stalk. Have you ever seen how blue a summer sky can be over a golden wheat field?
There’s always the color red… Oris’ old beater truck that runs along those back roads, carrying the writer to book signing events, the post office, and out to breakfast with Loren and his lovely wife.
Or blue, the color you’ll most often find Oris’ lovely wife, Patsy, wearing, with her blue jeans.
Pink… may just be a state of mind… Since the only place I know of that you’ll find the color pink in nature is rising in Oris’ cheeks when some fanciful writer pinches them over breakfast in McDonalds. After all, a breakfast muffin can turn any girl into a cheek pincher!
Oh, yeah, definitely. Pink is a State of Mind…
(Yeah, Oris, I know… the minute you see this — I’m in BIG trouble! That’s okay, it won’t be the first time, and you’re already looking mighty CUTE with those pink cheeks shining! 
)
Back road humor has a definite spot at the heart of the home, right there near the outhouse… I remember listening to my Mom and her older brother argue about who pushed whose outhouse over on Halloween night, and discuss the untimely demise of a uniform, when one brother-in-law landed his carcass in the hole beneath the outhouse as he attempted to push it over by running into the side of it. 
