About Me — Oh Jeremiah

I Sing Folky Songs. I write Southern Stories.

I’ve always been full of crap.

My mom used to tell me that’s why my eyes were brown. That’s my family’s version of a compliment. To be full of crap means you tell good stories. To tell good stories means you’re worth keeping around.

And so on.

It’s no wonder it took me so long to figure out how to talk about my feelings.

I grew up about as far south as you can go before you hit water — in Laurel, Mississippi. My only neighbor growing up was a cranky old man with a pipe named Olan Knight. He was the great, great, great grandson of a civil war hero named Newt, and the legend goes, he led my hometown to be it’s own State during the Civil War. Matthew McConaughey would go on to play him in a movie. It doesn’t matter how handsome they make him; I’m not watching a movie about my neighbors grandpa.

I always thought I was born in the wrong place. It’s as if the creator of the universe dropped my piece on the floor and couldn’t remember where it belonged, so I got stuck in Jones County. If all the men in my family weren’t also bald white men with beards, I’d have reason to think there’s a picture of me on a milk carton somewhere. I spent most of my childhood days in search of meaning out in the woods or at the…