For the record, here's how all this foolishment began �
During my incarceration in the ICU at Mountain Vista hospital in Mesa, old friend Tom (AKA "Slim") brought along his buddy Kent and introduced us. Later, when I was doing hard time at the Apache Junction nursing home, Kent scammed my jailers into thinking that the name "Kent Powell" was close enough to "Ken Howell" to make us kin. He couldn't scam 'em into letting me go free, so he got 'em to let me wander outside in his "custody" for an hour or so now 'n' then.
One of our outings was an evening gab'n'grub fest at a local eatery, with a few others who were already good friends of Tom and Kent and became then good friends of Ken Howell. I couldn't make-out what they were talking about, but it was good to watch 'em get along so well � and of course great to be on parole if even for only a couple of hours.
That wee shindig was apparently so enjoyable for them that they decided to try it again a few months later at Quemado Lake � and that bash � with several more good 'fire guys � proved to be so much fun for everybody that some of 'em arranged another one at Greg's in Sierra Vista. That'n' led to another'n', just as last year's lake bash is leading to another'n' just a few long weeks from now.
So far, even though they're increasingly larger Campfire events, there've been no nastiness, maimings, or killings.
And so it goes � fortunately. I count myself especially blest to know these guys and to watch 'em enjoy good clean in-person fellowship.
"Good enough" isn't.
Always take your responsibilities seriously but never yourself.
