Banish me to a dark corner, chain me to a keyboard, and I will gladly be a word slave. I'd sit there all day, with only an occasional demand for a coffee break.
I'm a would-be (wanna be) author, middle aged, fairly repressed, but extremely BLESSED with an amazing wife and two brilliant boys.
For several years, I've been haunted by images of the starving, drug addicted, victimized teens of the streets. I write about them a lot.
Long ago, I heard someone say the following about marriage: “Women go into marriage expecting the man to change, and he stays the same. Men go into marriage expecting the woman to stay the same, and she changes.” I remember laughing and laughing at this brilliant observation – […]
We humans are a forgetful lot. This has always been true of us, but never more so than it is now, with our awareness obscured behind an obnoxious fog of techno bleeps, hashtags, “shares”, and “hey, look at this cute video of my cat!” Our small, addled minds […]
I’m afflicted this morning with a nervous stomach. I’ll expound in more detail at a later time, but I’ve been reading this book – The Wisdom of the Enneagram. It talks a lot about remaining present, living in the moment and feeling the sensations of the heart and […]
The following is a work of fiction. We’d been dating for three months when Carla broke up with me. This is confusing to describe, because I’m saying we broke up, though we never technically said, to each other or to others, that we were dating in the first […]
It goes without saying that a person cannot choose his mother. Without your mom being who she is, you would not exist; yet, I hear of people wishing they could have been born to different parents. It’s a silly prospect, but when I consider some of the dreadful […]
The following is a work of fiction. Frankie used to refer to the Shady Acres as The Short Timers club. Each person there was not far from a game-ending heart attack or stroke. Frankie had developed an uncanny ability to foresee who was on the verge. Or maybe […]
The following is a work of fiction My first kiss with Carla happened at the State Fair. The whole thing looked like something a guy might plan ahead to do, just so he’d have a moving story to tell his kids someday, maybe even his grandkids. “We were […]
Jamaica is a country that likes to repeat herself. I noticed during my short visit that it’s not uncommon for a Jamaican to follow one slow, deliberate statement with a precise duplicate of the same words immediately afterward. Her music repeats. Her dance repeats. Her food and her […]
The following is a work of fiction. I only once saw Frankie emotionally shaken, and it didn’t alter my respect for him; in fact, it reinforced it. We got to talking about a friend of his he’d lost during the war. The guy’s name was Joe Stern, a […]
The following is a work of fiction. The first time I went to church with Carla, I went, of course, because I loved her. I wasn’t used to attending church; my family never went, except maybe at Easter time. I’d been invited in the past; some guy from […]
Legionwriter 