Jr., Howard Wayne Kemp

I, Howard Wayne Kemp Jr, was born in Dallas, Texas, in the section of town known as Oak Cliff. Methodist Hospital was the welcoming mat for my birth in October of 1950. Four years later, Stevie Ray Vaughan would also begin his life at Methodist Hospital. We did not know each other so perhaps the birth of SRV is not relevant to this biographical profile. However, in my opinion, no one ever played guitar better than Stevie Ray. There are other choices that define who I am.

Like, Mickey Mantle will always be the best baseball player in my lifetime.

I consider Roger Staubach and Brett Favre tied for my favorite quarterbacks. I’m not offering argument for the best quarterback to ever play the game. These are the men I want to see play.

I'm sure I'm in the minority but I would rather watch Bill Russell and Dennis Johnson play basketball than MJ, Shaq, Kobe or Wilt. There's something ultimately honorable about men committed to Defense and Team.

But given the opportunity I would choose to go to the track and watch race horses rumble down the stretch. Imagine if Man 'O War, Citation, Secretariat, Forego, Seattle Slew, Native Dancer could break from the gate at the same time. Who wouldn't pay real money to get to the rail to see that one.

Without any doubt, I am an athlete wannabe. For as long as I can remember I envied professional athletes. I read every biography related to athletes in my elementary school. Despite my desire, I never played for a school team. I competed at the local recreational gyms and ball diamonds. You probably saw me or someone like me. You know the guy without speed, without a high vertical jump, and without size trying to defend the opponent two inches taller. You know him; he was me. Yet I competed. It filled the need.

I am like many my age; it’s been a hell of a ride. Our fathers were the Greatest Generation; they ended World War II. We creatively found loopholes to avoid the Vietnam War. Our parents dug in and worked long and hard to give us a better life. We rebelled. We grew our hair long, bought guitars, and sported beards. We boomers enrolled in college and sang Give Peace A Chance. Eventually, we shortened our hair, got a job and divided into two groups, those who liked disco and those who tolerated it because that's where the girls were. We rolled into the eighties where suddenly everyone was a jogger who evolved into a runner. The century changed and food came under attack. Hamburgers, Pizza and Enchiladas were vilified even though those foods had fed us for 50 years. Only the idiotic and apathetic would consume these products. There was nothing else left to eat. We became eaters of salads.

I enjoy saying, "We went to different schools together,” when I refer to those who might have traveled the same path or felt the same pressures. I'm sure many of you and I “went to different schools together." I don't think I originated that line. Thanks to whomever I borrowed it from.

I, Howard Wayne Kemp, Jr, the author, have been writing since about 1965. Various poems, songs, rants, letters are scattered all over the country and landfills. Three other novels were started and they remain unfinished. It wasn't until 2005 that I latched onto an idea that persuaded me to finish.

In 2006, my trusty HP Printer spit out 457 letter size pages. There it was, a pile of papers called, Where's The Line? I gave it to a friend who reads a lot and asked him to read it. He did. His review was, "I've paid a lot more for a lot worse." Well, that sounded like a compliment to me. My job was done.

I put the 457 pages in my middle desk drawer. There it sat for nearly six years. The wife of the fellow who reviewed my 457 letter size pages of novel continued to ask about it. She gave me a link to an internet site that would help me self publish. My wife continued to say, "Yeah, why write it if you aren't going to do something with it?"

I went to the site and began the process of self publishing. It took 5 months of updating, re-writing and editing to get the novel to market. The market-ready-process is much harder and time consuming than composing.

Where's The Line?

Is it about sports? Yes.

Is it about Internet Gambling? Yes.

Is it about temptation and choices made in our youth? Yes.

Is it about consequences? Yes.

Should you read it? Yes.

If you have other questions, email me.