Rick Dietrick Ohio

He has lived long enough to put out a folk album. The collection of music is entitled Lone Way Home, available here and there. He thinks his folk stuff is funny, often poignant, but most find it depressing and dull. Words were forced upon Rick from the first day he was born in Ohio. Though he tried using gibberish to fend off his gigantic abusers, sheer body count forced him to eventually conform to their way of communicating. Everything went downhill from there. Growing larger and realizing he could no longer think for himself without words getting in the way, Rick decided to move to California and start afresh. To his dismay he discovered they used words there too. He thought perhaps if he roamed randomly about, he might stumble by chance into a wordless Valhalla. Alas it was not to be. All right then, he decided, if he must he would play their word game. He secretly accumulated journals filled with consonants and vowels, letters that someday he hoped to use against them somehow, someway. He mingled among their kind pretending to be one of them, befriending some to find out what exactly it was that made them so talky. Then it came to him, “I am one of them.” That was when he began to write and spew forth his brand o’ bull. He also composes music and has many songs spread around various media via publishers and music supervisors and such. Rick currently dwells in Los Angeles, continuing to write and sell songs and publish short stories, waiting for the other shoe to drop.