Kenny Miller

If you don't like this, you can blame Willie Nelson. I was one of his Lear Jet pilots back in his high-flying days. That was Connie's time as Wille's wife. She was wife number three and there were nothing but girls in his family life. So, as you can see, it's been a while since I was there.

On with the story. He was usually about 15 to 30 minutes late for flights and I was busy getting clearances and the latest weather updates about then. On this day, things were different. He was early. He was our only passenger for the trip. The other pilot was filing a flight plan at the FBO. It was just Willie and me for a while. What a chance!

I hadn't always been a pilot, I was an advertising man before I learned how to fly but flying was a far off goal for me. You see, I had polio when I was a pup. I was only three when I got it and it was before Dr. Salk developed the first vaccine. When it came to survival, we were on our own, except for those brave, and I do mean brave, doctors and nurses and PT's who were locked up with us.

Fortunately, polio only damaged my left arm but from that day on, I knew I was different. I wasn't going to be the sports star my dad hoped for. I was going to be a writer and an artist.

What better artist and creative thinker could I have had for a boss than Willie Nelson? We got along great. I never had a cross word with him. He was and is funny, loving, and thoughtful.

One of the "family" rules was we were never supposed to talk to him about his music. I broke that rule twice, and this day was my first offense. "Willie," I asked as we leanred against the front of the left wing. "How do you get your blockbuster hit ideas?" I asked.

He looked at me, smiled, and started to talk. "Well, I get this idea in my head," he said. "I don't do anything with it right away but if it is still there some days or weeks later, then I know I am supposed to do something with it."

I knew right then what I was supposed to do with all of my stories on drives, in drawers, and in my head. It was time to publish them and let people enjoy them--or not. So here ya go!

Where do my stories come from? I am a small town Nebraska guy so lots of them are about family life in small-town Nebraska. That experience turned into my first book, A Visit to Hartington, and the Kindle version, Bun. A Story of a Mom and Her Son.

My friends think of me as an "Indiana Jones" kind of guy because before Willie, I roamed the world in a camera-equipped plane and got into some pretty dicey places. Those stories resulted in my second book, The Africa Bomb. That book has turned into a series and the second one in that series, The Rooming House Murder, is a five-star book according to the Online Book Club. The third book is in the works and should be out fairly soon.

There you have it. That's why I write and why I publish. I hope you enjoy what you read and if you don't blame Willie Nelson. Oh,and I am not done because I have lots of ideas rattling around in my head waiting for a little push. God bless!

Oh, the second time I broke the family rule? Same situation. We had a flight. He was early. It was just Willie and me. "Willie," I said. "Do you remember that old Arlo Guthrie hit, The City of New Orleans? You should remake that. Mickey would be great on that." I think I paid for myself on that one.