Gerald Bosacker is a prolific poet and tale teller who is minimally known to the paying public, but lavishly displayed pro-bono on the Internet. Unemployed, he exists by charging “tasting fees” to grocers, and “comfort-rating” assessments to his landlords.
Destined to become a crusading journalist or witty editorialist, Bosacker abandoned his night class studies at the University of Minnesota to become first a printer, and then a salesman who successfully migrated upward, propelled by serendipity coupled with his love of choosing just the right words, to eventually become Senior Vice President of Sales for a large international chemical company. Promoted much beyond his ambition and capability, Bosacker jumped to early retirement at the first chance.
Now living among his aging peers in a Florida retirement community winters and his fishing shack on Whitefish Lake by Glacier Park summers, he has resumed his first love: weaving words into prize-winning poetry and surprising tales that borrow heavily from the fascinating people he met in his world-wide travels.