montana

“Won’t You Meet Me In Montana?”

October 12, 2026

No, I won’t meet you in Montana. Especially on Monday.

couple among trees in snow — _{^{Photo by Hugo Sykes on Pexels.com}}

The National Weather Service has issued winter storm warnings for parts of the state through Monday morning. An earlier forecast called for 10 to 20 inches of snow in some areas, with isolated totals approaching 30 inches in the Bob Marshall Wilderness.

Thirty inches. That is considerably more wilderness than I require.

NBC Montana also reported that the Beartooth Highway’s closure was moved up to Friday because of the approaching winter weather. When even the highway is closing early, I consider that a fairly clear invitation to stay home.

Some folks see that forecast and think, “How beautiful! Let’s pack up and spend the winter there.”

I admire their enthusiasm. From Arizona.

Desert living suits Steve and me just fine. Give me a wide horizon, a warm afternoon, and a winter wardrobe that doesn’t require instructions.

Somewhere in my head, the Green Acres theme is playing while I compose my own little tribute to staying warm. Steve has probably heard enough of it already.

I have gone north in November. I was younger then. I didn’t know what I know now.

pouring hot tea from thermos — ^{_{Photo by Amine on Pexels.com}}

The sky would turn gray, and the weather forecaster would assure us that we were expecting wind and cold. Then we would wake up to waist-deep snow.

Apparently, the snow had neglected to attend the briefing.

I remember drifts deep enough for cattle to walk over barbed-wire fences and wander miles from where they belonged. Across that stretch of country—Texas, the Oklahoma Panhandle, southwestern Kansas, and into Colorado—winter could make a fence seem more like a suggestion.

The cattle weren’t respecting property lines. They were looking for somewhere better to stand.

I understood their position.

I have also gone into Wyoming in December, when the forecast called for “a dusting.”

A foot of snow later, I began to suspect that Wyoming used a different measuring system.

I was young enough to tolerate it then. Or at least young enough to claim I could. There may also have been a few questionable concoctions involved that improved my opinion of the situation without improving the weather.

They didn’t melt the snow. They merely made being trapped indoors seem briefly like something I had agreed to.

Meanwhile, the snow kept piling up outside, and the roofline began looking uncomfortably close to ground level.

These are experiences that build character. I believe I have accumulated enough character to remain in Mesa.

So, no, I won’t be meeting anyone in Montana on Monday. Not for snow, a sick moose, or a lost tourist. Send photographs. I will study them from a comfortable chair and express the appropriate concern.

I moved to the desert to stay warm, and that decision continues to hold up beautifully.

If I get too warm, I can daydream about lounging beside the pool, with my broken leg propped safely out of the proceedings. Otis will be looking at me as though I’m the household misfit.

This from a dog who considers running through the house at aircraft speed a reasonable afternoon activity.

In my version of the pool scene, he eventually joins me, dog-paddles back to his float, and settles beside a water bottle with a little umbrella attached.

He has no job, pays no bills, and somehow ends up on the better vacation.

That is life around here, folks.

Monday, October 12, 2026. I checked. It is Monday.

Mesa may have a few showers in the forecast, but nobody is predicting that I’ll need to shovel my way to breakfast.

Montana can keep the snow. I’ll keep the coffee.

And if you need me, you know where to find me.

Somewhere warm.

Signature of Benjamin Groff with attribution and copyright information

Regardless, You May Never Eat Beef Jerky With The Same Satisfaction Again.

May 16, 2026

Internet Claim: Man Used Missing Men’s Bodies To Make Famous Beef Jerky

Local authorities arrested Buckworth on suspicion of using human meat for the jerky he sold to the public, and police needed to find the source of the meat.

A grotesque story now circulating again on Facebook, TikTok, and other social media platforms claims a man from Wenatchee was arrested after investigators supposedly discovered his “best-selling jerky” was made from human meat. The post names a man called “Ross Buckworth,” claims missing workers were connected to the case, and attempts to present itself as a real criminal investigation.

There is just one problem.

None of it is true.

The story is a recycled internet hoax that has been reposted for years in slightly different versions. In some versions the suspect is named “Ross Buckworth.” In others, “Leslie Buckworth.” Sometimes the story claims the events happened in Washington state. Other times it says Montana. The details change because the story itself is fabricated.

Fact-checking organizations previously traced earlier versions of the same claim to satire and fake-news style websites. Snopes labeled one widely shared version as satire. Another debunk pointed directly to a satirical source site that openly described itself as a humor publication.

What appears to have confused many readers is that the hoax borrows pieces from a real Wyoming wildlife-poaching case involving illegal jerky sales. In that legitimate case, Wyoming investigators discovered a man had been selling jerky made from poached mule deer and antelope while marketing it as beef jerky. DNA testing confirmed the meat came from illegally killed wildlife — not humans.

The actual Wyoming case involved wildlife violations investigated by the Wyoming Game and Fish Department. Authorities charged the suspect with poaching-related crimes, illegal sale of game meat, and hunting violations. No accusations involving human remains or cannibalism were ever part of the case.

That real story appears to have been twisted into sensational clickbait.

The viral post also shows several classic signs of internet fabrication:

No legitimate law enforcement agency confirms the arrest.
No credible newspaper or television outlet reported the story.
The alleged suspect cannot be verified through official records.
The details change depending on who reposts it.
The story uses shock value designed to trigger emotional reactions and sharing.

This is how many social media hoaxes survive. They blend one small piece of reality with outrageous fiction, then rely on people sharing before checking the facts.

In today’s online environment, shocking stories spread faster than verified information. The more disturbing the claim, the more engagement it receives. Algorithms reward outrage, fear, and disgust because people react emotionally before they pause to ask whether something is actually true.

That is exactly why stories like this continue to resurface every few years.

The “human jerky” story is not a hidden crime finally exposed to the public.

It is internet folklore dressed up as breaking news. And on this occasion, if you happen to see the story floating around Facebook, TikTok, or anywhere else online, you have the official blessing of benandsteve.com and GroffMedia©2026 — Truth Endures — to politely inform whoever is posting it that it is, without question, truly FAKE NEWS!