At Least They're Committed

The line is three people deep and I’m thinking, ‘Gads, I hope she doesn’t ask me how my night is going. She don’t wanna know.’ I’m up, she asks, I spill. “I TESTED THE LINKS ALL DAY AND I DIDN’T CHECK THE TEST MESSAGE I GUESS AND FOUR DEAD LINKS WENT OUT TO THREE-HUNDRED-THOUSAND PEOPLE!!!” Read more

Hiking up the killer hill every morning, sometimes again in the afternoon; dollar-sized bruise on the ball of my foot after tripping and stepping on a sharp rock while river wading; awesome; choking on the dust on the second ATV while giggling as we puddle jump going up Red Creek; pulling splinters from my knee; Read more

Dexter is my midlife crisis. He’s big and brutish and a bit of a bully, but only to people who pick on us. Unlike the 50ish man who gets a red Corvette to compensate for his increased lack of hair (oxymoron!) or his inability to get it up, I have my Ford F150 dual cab, circa 1998, because Read more

“Awesome” time, as Dad would quip. One-hundred-plus degrees, sitting in the shade in the front and back yards, talk of Steve McQueen, Audie Murphy, “that God-damn” Duvall, buzz cuts, shooting archery until Edisonsblackdahlia’s fingers ripped open, lamenting that I suffered nary a bruise, homemade soup, teasing, Three Dog Night, speed walking at the mall, and my dad’s stories of Read more

I dreamed last night that I misspelled ‘committed’ in a headline in a print publication. I was missing an ‘m.’ I woke up distressed before realizing it wasn’t real, only to come down to blog about it and find that I had numerous typos in the last post. Jesus! I had been flustered and had Read more

Yup. That’s what the ultrasound gal told your parents and Aunt Maddie. “It’s a boy.” Sometimes it’s tough to tell, she said, because (as with your Uncle Darian) the babies cross their legs. But you, Desmond (or Dezmond, they’re still deciding), were showing off, just like your Uncle Dante did. You’re strong and well-developed and enjoyed Read more