His name was Jeremiah Johnson, and they say he wanted to be a mountain man. The story goes that he was a man of proper wit and adventurous spirit, suited to the mountains. Nobody knows whereabouts he come from and don't seem to matter much. He was a young man and ghosty stories about the tall hills didn't scare him none. He was looking for a Hawken gun, .50 caliber or better. He settled for a .30, but dang, it was a genuine Hawken, and you couldn't go no better. Bought him a good horse, and traps, and other truck that went with being a mountain man, and said good-bye to whatever life was down there below. And he made biscuits. Darn good biscuits.
Most folks nowadays say he's dead. But some folks say, he never will be. Both Robert Redford and Johnson's roasting possum above can vouch for the truthfulness of this story.
Whenever there's something I can't quite seem to figure out, I try to find the solution by making up a metaphor. 60% of the time, they work everytime.A "darn good biscuit" is a fail-safe metaphor. I think of it as anything really worth savoring, listening to, watching, spending time with, exploring, reading, getting to know, understanding, etc. It can be anything you want it to be.
