Charles’ stories move you without coercion; they charm you into another time when little boys laughed with wild abandon with their grandpas, Marines crowded together in the belly of a ship on their way to war, and critters took pride in their martyr ancestors sacrificing their lives so Davy Crockett could get his coonskin cap. Amid the entertainment of his fireside stories woven into the tapestry of his escapades lies the soothing voice we long to hear, the sigh of relief that tells us we can simply let go and abide an age-old pleasure: hanging on to an expert storyteller constructing that new reality rising around us.

Climb up on the porch and revel in his salt-of-the-earth tales, expounding on fundamental truths, on the bedrock of the mountain where the stories grow. This is where Charles indulges in his rockin’, smokin’, ponderin’ time. Then sit a spell as the weight of the world slides off your shoulders and this uncommon book holds you captive.