Funky Grampa tells stories from the dusty corners of his mind.
“I wonder as I wander out under the sky,
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die,
For poor orn’ry people like you and like I,
I wonder as I wander, ... out under the sky.”
Am I a saint or a sinner or a speck in space?
Am I a dreamer or a doer or do I go along?
Am I a big fish in a pond
or a small fish in a lake
or a tiny fish in an ocean?
I wandered under many skies.
I lived in diverse neighborhoods.
I belonged in disparate groups.
I occupied different roles.
The “Who me?” kept shifting.
Now I answer to Funky Grampa!