Special Nicknames We Love: Gravel Belly, Corn, Bub, Crash, and More
Where I grew up, you didn’t need a résumé to know who you were dealing with.
You needed a nickname. You didn’t have to like it. You just had to earn it.
And when someone hollered it across the football stands or from a truck window…
You answered.
Christmas Reunions: Passing the Torch of Family Stories, Laughter, and Love
There was something almost sacred about that space. The lights twinkling on the tree, the low rumble of football on the TV, the smell of Mom’s cinnamon rolls still hanging in the air. That little living room wasn’t in Picher anymore, but as the family gathered for a few hours that night, everything that mattered about home was there.
Funny Football Fail: How My Groin Injury Became Local Legend
Dennis's cleat found the sweet spot like a heat-seeking missile. One second I was charging forward, the next, crumpled like a lawn chair. White-hot pain exploded through my gut and dropped me like a sack of potatoes. For a few seconds, I couldn't breathe. The play kept going, but I curled into the turf, hands clutching my groin, trying not to pass out.
Hot Chinese Mustard Nearly Killed Me on Date Night
We slid into a booth at her favorite Chinese restaurant. She showed me how to swirl a little red sauce with just a touch of mustard—elegant, controlled, sophisticated.
I wasn’t about to be outdone. I poured a silver-dollar pool of red sauce, dropped in two spoons full of mustard, and finished with a snowstorm of crushed red pepper flakes.
One bite. My sinuses detonated.
📣 Eric Glover Signs with D4EO Literary Agency: Debut Book Breakthrough
We're thrilled to announce that memoir author Eric Glover has signed with D4EO Literary Agency for representation of his debut book, Barefoot and Bulletproof: The Dirty Little Glover Boys.
Milestones and Memories: The Dirty Little Glover Boys Strike Again
We filmed several segments for the new Chat Rat Chronicles podcast. Some covered territory from Barefoot and Bulletproof. Others? Nostalgic stories that never made the memoir — the kind of tales that only surface when two brothers get talking and the lifelong memories start flooding back.
⛵ Building a Legacy: My Father’s Life of Grit and Hope
He built campers, boats, and boys—and believed there was always Next Spring.
🚜 Scrap Drive: Crafting a DIY Tractor with Ingenuity and Grit
How a homebuilt tractor, a spring blizzard, and a whole lot of Glover pride taught me what leadership looks like when the road disappears.
🚨 Pride Weighs More Than Plywood: Stories of Grit and Resilience
“You don’t steer through a curve. You look through it.”
We called it dragging iron—riding low, fast, and fearless.
That’s how I learned leadership: not from books, but from bruises.
One lean too early, you stall.
Too late, you crash.
But nail it—and for a few seconds, gravity loses.
That’s what this series is about.
🎸 The Best Way to Listen to Music: Turn It Up — Loud!
From a red GTO and rattling 8-tracks to the night I met Kevin Cronin mid-turbulence, this is the story of how music shaped my life, saved my memories, and stitched together generations. A love letter to rock and roll, fatherhood, and the soundtrack that still plays at full volume.
🧠 The Power of a Great Storyteller: Lessons from My Grandad
Grandad Ben could crack a watermelon over his knee and a story wide open with just a grin. Alzheimer’s stole his punchlines—but not his presence. This post is my promise to remember, to keep the forge lit, and to roar loud enough that no one forgets him again.
🧠 Unlocking One’s Legacy: The Power of Writing a Memoir
This memoir wasn’t written for publishers. It was written to fight the fade. For my grandsons. For the town that’s no longer on the map. For the memories that crackle like porch steps and Gorilla laughter. If you’ve ever felt something slipping, this is why I picked up a pen.
🧠 The Fear of Forgetting Won’t Win: A Bold Memoir of Family and Legacy
Dementia runs in my family—but so does defiance. My granddad forgot. My dad forgot. I won’t. This post is a punch thrown at forgetting, one memory at a time. If you’ve ever watched someone fade, this is what it looks like to fight back—with ink, grit, and a Gorilla’s roar.
You Might Be a Chat Rat If…
BB gun scars, busted handlebars, and pride that outweighed caution—if your childhood came with a warning label and a cloud of chat dust, you might be one of us.
Chat Rats Loose in Prague
Everywhere we go, somebody’s staring. We’re not doing anything special—just laughing loud and talking like we always have. But apparently, two grinning Oklahoma boys with wives in tow sound like a tornado warning in a library over here.
From Nervous Flub to True Love: My Epic Awkward First Date Story
Our first date was dinner, horror, and a Karmel Korn catastrophe. I tried to impress Tina by playing it cool after spilling caramel popcorn across the movie theater floor. She didn’t run. She married me. That’s the story. That’s Crunch Life.
Summer Bike Rides: Chasing Freedom and Fearless Adventures
The summer before we could drive, we chased cool on ten-speeds—twelve blistering miles from Picher to Riverview Pool. What started as a ride for freedom became a journey into sunburns, daredevil dives, and baby oil goddesses. We thought we were chasing cool. But we were just riding home.
From Mischief to Mayhem: The Childhood Name of the Dirty Little Glover Boys
Before we were legends—chat-dusted, grinning, and marked by the joy of a day well lived.
The name “Dirty Little Glover Boys” started as a screen-door shout from a kid across the street. We didn’t take offense—we claimed it. And we’ve been wearing it like a badge ever since.
Racing Full Throttle Go-karts: A Wild Ride of Adrenaline and Mayhem
I clipped a rogue tire on the last turn and went airborne—sky, pavement, sky, pavement, repeat. When the smoke cleared, I was upright, shredded, barefoot, and straddling a smoking go-kart like I meant to do it. No trophy. Just scars, laughter, and a helmet with a fresh flattop.
True Tales of Hunting Pheasant: The Moon Shot That Changed Everything
Before I ever fired a shot, I was trapped in a camper shell with a gassy dog, freezing my tail off, and trying not to pass out. By sundown, I’d botched the flush of a lifetime, dodged my own shotgun spray, and earned a nickname I’ll never live down. This is how one hunting trip in Red Cloud, Nebraska, went from moon shot to punchline—and why my dog still gets the last laugh.