I’m about to start doing something I’ve never done before.

But first, you don’t know me, so here’s the shortcut roadmap to catch you up on who I am.

I often tell people that I was an only child with six brothers. As the seventh son (no girls) born to Claude and Lena Renfro, I came long 13 years after No. 6. Born in March of 1945, I was so late in the program that my four oldest brothers were all serving in the World War II military. It was an interesting time to join the human race, and I plan to talk about that more.

My early life was quiet and very interior, growing up on a small 20-acre Missouri farm outside of Springfield, Missouri. The nearest neighbors with kids my age were five miles away, so there were rarely any “neighborhood” friends at our house. Church was the social center of my pre-school live. And I grew up with an active imagination, creating playmates in my mind where there were none nearby.

But those early years were ideal in many ways and served me well as I leaned on that imagination and my writing ability throughout school and career. When really pressed to say what I did to earn a living, I generally say I am a writer. It isn’t quite right. I’ve always argued that the difference between someone who can write and a writer is compulsion. And I never really felt compelled in the sense that I had to write or perish.

Educationally, I’ve had a broad range of experiences, from a one-room school the first two years to graduating from college 16 years later. I have always cherished that diverse educational experience. The one-room school was much like home-schooling today in a family where there is a wide age range of kids. And a bachelor of arts degree in English literature and American history set me on a life-long learning path that I’ve tried to never leave.

Shortly before my 27th birthday in 1972 and after three years in a college campus information office, I went to work for the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA). Yep, that one. It was the second and last place I ever worked. Forty-one years later, I retired from the NCAA for the second time, gone only six months after the first retirement before I was asked to come back and work in the president’s office as his chief communication and policy advisor.

During those 41 years, I wrote hundreds of speeches, Congressional testimony, position papers, and other documents designed to persuade readers to the particular point of view that intercollegiate athletes were amateurs. Of course, that point of view is irrelevant now, so I don’t do that anymore.

I also coached leaders to interview with national media on whatever their issues were, but most often when they found themselves in crisis..

Today, I’m still a coach — helping young professionals with their job interviewing skills and developing their personal narratives.

I also dabble gently in photography and woodworking, and aggressively at dog petting.

It’s a pretty difficult existence I experience, but I persevere.

Now, with that as all the background I intend to provide at the moment, I’ll get into this thing I’m going to start doing.

I’m going to meander.

I’m going to begin mentally wandering around the world I live in or once experienced, observed and tried to figure out, was or am amused by, became annoyed with, remember lovingly, or otherwise find myself buzzed up enough about to put fingers to keyboard. And I’m going to comment as I do so.

You should be prepared for not finding a theme or a category to follow. That’s kind of the point of meandering. I hope to fall into the “pretty readable stuff” group of writers on Substack. Oh, and I just love the fact there is a place like Substack to do this.

Consider this the crack of the starter’s pistol. And a fair warning that neither you nor I have any idea where this is going next.

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