Thinking about old times and Old Friends Some of you have read much of the thoughts you may be about to read, however there are needs to post these stories and thoughts on this particular blog! So that being said, Take Care Y'all and enjoy thinking on the Keyboard! Began writing this Legend in the later part of 2005 The Legend of Roy and Boze! This is dedicated to my friend and Brother in Christ, Roy Shirling! What you are about to read is the real life account of two friends and their families that have lived a lot of life together. You will encounter a lot of the comical side of the life and times of these two families and these very unique individuals, Roy Shirling and me, James Bozeman. Life is as the Bible states, “a vapor” and that is the reason I write these words. The stories that we have are so important! It is so important to have these life stories deep with in us. They are stories of who we are and what we have done related to who we are. They are special treasures that are rich with grace and love of God. I just don’t think, well I know, life cannot be enjoyed to the level of joy and peace I have experienced through it all, without the Lord Jesus Christ! The Bible says that “the joy of the Lord is my strength” and that is what we need while were here. I always heard Dr. Tommy Starkes say that “we need to enjoy our Salvation” and maybe that is what was taking place as the events that made up these stories were unfolding. The really startling thing about all this is that it went by and goes by so quickly. So here goes with "The Legend of Roy and Boze" It all started on a dark and stormy night! No it didn’t, that's just the way they start these things off. Actually it all started on a bright sunny morning sometime in the Fall of 1979. My dad, James V. Bozeman, and myself, James C. Bozeman, had joined a Fellowship Hunting Club. Fellowship Hunting Club was North of Selma, Alabama and was real close, as the crow flies, to Plantersville, Alabama. I had hunted the property associated with this club throughout high school with Smitty Blackwell. Now we would get to hunt there again with one major difference, now we had to pay! Anyway, on that morning it was my task to help with the building of a Pump House as we were having a work day. Now mind you that I had never laid brick nor block in my life and the guy that I was working with began to get real concerned about the stability of our project because he kept talking about the size of boulders I was putting in the mortar mix. Listen, if there is still one thing standing today at Fellowship Hunting Club, it has to be that old pump house. It might not be level but I suspect it’s still there. Our next meeting would be at another house of much greater importance to the both of us as one Sunday morning at Church, in walks the brick layer and his family. Roy, Sandee, Timmy, Elise, Neal, and Jason Shirling. That bunch was a pack a pew family if there ever was one. The only problem was that the Church we attended didn’t have pews. We had those folding metal chairs that make you squirm whether the sermon is hot or not. With that said, I guess this is where you are supposed to say the rest is history. Well, that’s why I’m trying hard to remember it so I can preserve it for the rest of history to come. So goes the legend of Roy and Boze! Sounds like I have gone to singing doesn’t it! That’s what trying to remember so much stuff will do to you. This legend of sorts covers Alabama and Louisiana and a trip to Eufaula, Alabama that no body will believe. I still can’t believe it and I was there! The one time in mine and Roy’s lives in which we were as innocent as could be, we were in more trouble than I can comprehend even to this day. I can still remember thinking, this is one more life like dream I’m having. Any way I’ll save that one for a little later in the Legend of Roy and Boze. This bricklayer, block layer was and is a jack-of-all-trades. Man he is a plumber, electrician, auto mechanic, wood worker, pond builder, surgeon, and comedian. He thought it was real funny when I was holding wires on my boat battery and I got grounded out real good. When the sparks stopped and the smoke cleared, there I was, I can’t remember what gauge wire that was, but my thumb had the imprint of all them strands of wire in it. Real funny! By the way, Roy was always real wise when it came to electricity. Like the day when he was trying to rework the wiring in the box where the service line comes into the house. It was that old fiber coated wiring. He needed some slack so he grabbed a two by four and forced it between the brick wall and the service line and gave it a real hard pull. Well you might know that the sides of that old service box was good and sharp. They were not good for anything else, but they were good and sharp. The place where the wire went through the box, sliced through that old fiber with ease. It looked like the 4th of July briefly and he held out his hand as if he wanted me to be apart of the fire works. No thank you sir as it is always the guy on the end of the line that gets the surprise. Just look at my thumb! Well, so begins and so goes the legend of Roy and Boze. It has been a long time since 1979. We have been through a lot together since we first met at that old pump house. God has been good because God can’t help Himself, He is just so good and so good to us! All things considered, me and Roy probably should be with the Lord already for the stunts we pulled and things we’ve done. I thought I was going to Heaven some time back when we were doing the cooking at a “Mother’s Day Fish Fry” at church. My propane tank smelled like it was leaking and I made the mistake of saying “I wonder if this tank is leaking”? Well Roy says “I don’t know, let’s find out” and sticks a lighter to the neck of the valve on that bottle. I don’t know how to spell the sound that was made as that propane bottle ignited. I hate it when he does stuff like that! At least you can die of a heart attack before the flames make you a part of the Fish Fry. Man this ought to be a movie but whom would they cast for the two parts. I really want to know whom they would cast for Bonnie Sue and Sandee. Bonnie Sue,my wife, can read your lips at fifty yards and Sandee sharpens dental floss just for the fun of it. That’s not funny either! But so goes the legend of Roy and Boze! Chapter 2 To begin this chapter or this part of the legend, I need to be real serious for a moment. Roy has always been there for me. But now Roy has done went and “Seceded” from the Union. He moved to the great state of Florida. They seceded January 10, 1861 and the great state of Alabama seceded on January 11, 1861. Roy seceded August 2006 and the great state of Alabama seems a bit empty these days. I love you my friend! We have sort of been through it all haven’t we buddy. I preformed weddings for your children. I even buried your grandchild. There was no way of knowing back in 1979 that God would cause the journey to be filled with so many different events and very important times. It’s true, that old hunting club, that old pump house brought us together! Now you know why they call it "Fellowship Hunting Club". We have lived life together as friends and well yes, as brothers. That closeness, that bond, took us and takes us through these years. Friends have come and gone my friend, but I do count you as my brother that I never had and I only wish we had been able to spend more time together so the legend would contain more than it will at the conclusion of writing. We just need another trip to Chilatchee Creek and everything will be Ok. Speaking of Chilatchee, Creek, the last time I went down there with Roy was one real foggy morning and he, now having this new Bass Boat that he has, has turned into a speed demon or sorts. The fog was so thick you could hardly see the front end of the boat from the steering wheel. It took all I could do to keep him from parting the fog with that boat. Something happens to an old man when he sits down behind the wheel of one of the super sonic Bass boats. I just knew if he ever got cut loose with that thing, I was going to wear the Red Bluff home with me that day, or that for a truth I would become a permanent fixture on Red Bluff. You folks, you do know where Red Bluff is on the Alabama River don’t you! It’s that high red bluff just South of Bouge Chitta Creek and just North of Chilatchee Creek. I had already been too close to that bluff years earlier on one of those Brown, Blackwell, and Bozeman outings. Whew! I never will forget that day but that’s for another legend story. Back to the Fog Bank and Roy. For the better part of what must have seemed like an eternity, Roy listened to me say “easy Roy, easy Roy”. It’s a good thing that fog bank was in place that morning because if he had got started down that river he would have went to Mobile Bay before he settled down. Can you imagine what it would have been like to hit them locks at Miller’s Ferry. Amazing what a boat like that will do to a man. Well, I don’t remember how many Bass we caught that day but Roy was saving up visions of speeding back to Bogue Chitta Creek to the boat landing. When we hit the river he finally got to shove the throttle all the way forward and that ole Bass Boat jumped like she had been spurred. You know how they do, they come straight up out of the water where you can’t see anything in front of you. Thank goodness we weren’t close to Red Bluff just yet. Next they level out and then back up as you start tapping the Trim Button until you haven’t got but about three inches of the hull of that boat in the water, plus the motor which is screaming by now. By the time we got even with the Red Bluff, my cheeks had rolled all the way back and was slapping my ears severely. I was trying to hold my hat on and I thought I would swallow my partial due to the windblast coming directly into my wide-open mouth. The Good Lord was looking out for me because I thought we was going back to Selma without the truck and trailer. I could just imagine Roy pulling in City Park Marina and handing me the keys and saying “go get the truck”! I would have hated to walk back to Orrville, Alabama. You folks know where Orrville, Alabama is don’t you? It’s South of Selma and North of Bogue Chitta Creek and Chilatche Creek and well, never mind. We got to Bogue Chitta in record time and I didn’t suffocate nor did I choke to death on all them bugs I was collecting under my partial. I was so glad when my cheeks returned to their normal position. I think I then looked over at Roy and said something real intelligent like, “boy, that was quick”! You got to be kidding me. I had been fishing Bogue Chitta Creek and Chilatchee Creek since the early 70's and I had never covered that distance that quick. I had never gone anywhere that quick. I guess that trip really affected me because the next time we got to go fishing we abandoned the faith and went to a Catfish Pond. You know, one of those ponds that you can cast all the way across! Well at least that it cuts down on all the heavy boat traffic and speeders like Roy. Come to think of it though, if you could get in a boat and speed it would blow away the smell of that bait and the flies that are gathering around. Whew! Where is the rain when you need a shower? Speaking of rain, it used to rain every time we went to pond or river. That also produced some interesting Legend moments as well and I will tell you about them later. So goes the legend of Roy and Boze! I told you that you wouldn’t believe so that’s why I’m calling this thing a legend. Some of you, just maybe, some of you, especially you Outdoor types and County folks would believe what you have read and will be reading. My Lord is my witness, apart from my Sometimers and the length of time between all the events unfolding on these pages, all are true. I promise they are true. My grammar is awful, my spelling is disastrous, but maybe you will get a laugh or be able to relate to the events in the life of Roy and Boze. So goes the legend of Roy and Boze. Oh by the way, He’s Roy and I’m Boze!