Alabana moves to East Texas--great folk tales

Want to hear a seemingly authentic East Texas voice spinning tales of World War II times and little towns and gossip and local characters? And talking about such radio programs as Fibber McGee and such things as blackouts--you have to be of a certain age to remember these things, but they were all nostalgic to me. To hear about them just listen to Jim Lee read from his new collection of short stories, A Texas Jubilee (TCU Press). Now Jim will be the first to tell you that many of these stories are based on incidents he remembers from his home town of Leeds, Alabama, and many of the characters come from there. But being, as he now is, the grandfather of Texas folk tales and folklore (and a Fellow of the Texas Folklore Society), he moved  them to his adopted state where he's lived longer than I care to tell you. At first, he set these tales in Bonham but then he decided he didn't know enough about Bonham, so he moved them to the fictional town of Bodark Springs and the characters and stories began to emerge almost on their own, with Jim as a conduit. He'll tell you he's not a writer but he is--he's a master of the short story. He'll also tell you the stories have much in common with Alabama, because East Texas is the South, and anywhere east of I-35 is the South; west of that highway is the West.
Delightful evening tonight. The Bookish Frogs (another name for friends of TCU Press) met at the Fort Worth Botanic Gardens for a pot-luck supper and evening with Jim Lee. An impromptu happy hour developed at my house first, with Melinda, production manager at the press, and Carol Roark who said she was going and did I want a ride, and then Christian who came along to get Jacob and stayed an hour, and finally Elizabeth who wandered in after making movies with Jacob. We had a happy time, nibbling on this wonderful rosemary/olive oil asiago cheese I get at Central Market, so wonderful Carol and I were almost late to the party.
Dinner was good--it's amazing the things people bring to pot-luck suppers. One good friend always brings a bok choy salad because it's such a hit. There was potato salad and--be still my heart!--spanakopita (so delicious), tuna salad, fried chicken and ribs, and so much more. I made a layered salad--one of those retro things where you layer the salad, spread mayo and sour cream on the top and let it sit all night. Green peas are an essential ingredient--except I forgot and found them on the counter after I'd' finished off the salad and no way to add them then. They'll be good on leftover salad tomorrow.
I saw people I hadn't seen in a while and was glad to see, missed some familiar faces, but all in all it was a lovely evening. And Jim was the star, as he always is whenever he speaks. If anyone ever had a natural talent for humor, it's Jim Lee. So, cheers for him and his new book. May he sell many, many copies.

Buy this book! I heard a wonderful program on this collection of short stories tonight, and I guarantee you'll chuckle--maybe a few belly laughs--all the way through it. Jim Lee, the author, is an old and treasured friend, although he claimed publicly tonight that I once rejected his short stories on the grounds that short story collections are hard to sell (only time I've been publicly booed that I can remember). In my defense, the stories were then set in Alabama...now he's moved them to Texas and caught the flavor, humor, and pathos of rural Texas. And he'll sell them because he'll do public talks about them and captivate people. I should have had more foresight. I do remember the postal carrier from those stories years ago, and he's again prominent in this collection.
Jim is many things--a scholar, a prolific author of nonfiction, essays, and book reviews, a folklorist--but above all he is a raconteur, a story teller, a public speaker par excellence. He can spin a yarn that will keep you fascinated or send you into smiles if not giggles. And sometimes he breaks into song, which he did tonight. He taught English at the University of North Texas for forty years or more, served as department chair for a long time. He's a member of everything that counts in Texas--Texas Institute of Letters, Texas Literary Hall of Fame, Fellow of the Texas Folklore Society. But he's also a loyal friend who reads what others have written and offers unvarnished opinons--sometimes too unvarnished. And, finally, he's a gentleman. These days he generally wears a fedora and tips it when he meets a lady. I've known ladies to swoon over that handsome man wearing a hat. I won't divulge his age here, but he's older than you think and than he looks, and he talks about it often.
For a long while, when I was director of TCU Press, Jim was our acquisitions editor. He was proud of pointing out that his letter of appointment specified "without compensaation." But he made a lot of good acquisitions and probably saved me from some major mistakes. We used to lunch often and shared family stories, ups and downs. He never hesitated to take me to task when he thought I was out of line, and I appreciated that. These days, I don't see much of him, and I miss him. He told me recently he was staying home and washing his hands frequently to avoid the flu; I think he was staying home and writing short stories. This, his first venture into published fiction is further proof of his versatility.
Jim Lee, that transplant from Alabama, is a true Texan, and he's produced a book that is true Texas.