But I Digress is the collection of twenty nonfiction stories that highlight the antics of Peter Bridgford between his middle/ high school, college, and post-college years. Although longforgotten and even slightly repressed, he began sharing these true tales with his students to entertain them during their lunch times, and they eventually became the stuff of legend. They include the last time he went trick-or-treating as a teenager in Buffalo, swimming with friends in a sewer in Ohio, learning to call alligators in Florida, committing mutiny on a longliner on the Grand Banks, getting thrown off of a farting horse, pooping his pants in London, being beaten up by the local paperboy, receiving his first tattoo as a sixteen-year-old, getting and then losing Dizzy Gillespie's autograph, meeting the last Mohican in Providence, hiking the Appalachian Trail, working on a lobster wharf in Rhode Island, surviving a stint on a processing ship in the Aleutian Islands, and a whole host of other bad decisions that he made during his lifetime that, somehow, he lived through to tell about.
From what I read here, you have lived a life with a fertile experience available for writing books. And, your Amazon ratings are quite good for your other books. I do believe that, just from the titles, that those are some very interesting, dangerous, and sometimes, hair-raising stories that only come from true experience. Sometimes the truth is hard to believe. That's why some of it becomes legend.
I have often thought about writing about some of my earliest experiences when I was emboldened by my twin brother to get out and explore my environment in ways that weren't necessarily appropriate, but certainly fun at the time. You have encouraged me to write those stories and, perhaps produce a book of them that I have long thought of and never done. I have written my autobiography but most of the stories are not in it.
The true story of Cheryl Pierson Cuccio who made headlines in 1986 and her husband Rob Cuccio. Cheryl was abused sexually and physically and Rob died for 43 minutes on Cheryl's 43rd birthday.
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
(Richard M. Feldman) Ever since I was a young boy, the only thing I wanted to be was a cowboy. I wanted to own and work on a real ranch, with cattle and horses. Especially horses.
While I never became a cowboy, considering everything I have done
