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Category: Uncategorized

  • Strides or lack thereof

    All right, dammit! I reread what I wrote below and it comes off as way too negative and I don’t mean it to be negative, just a general observation so that if my grandkids-that-I’ll-never-get-to-meet read it and can identify with the situation they’ll know they got their “tool” genes from…

  • Burgeoning

    So I’m done tonight being everything to everyone and so we’re watching Boondock Saints and I remember delighting in the religious/spiritual juxtaposition of the whole thing and down to earth acting and dialogue, but not having a clue what it’s about and I’m thinking tonight is no different. Family ties.…

  • 18

    All right. There is something totally wrong with this scenerio: My 18-year-old-today son is calling and texting me and asking me to scope out addresses on Mapquest for strip clubs. He’s just SURE he’ll find one that he and his already-18-year-old friends can go to tonight! He seems to be…

  • Invasive thoughts . . .

    I can’t get the image of Daniel Rohrbough’s lifeless body laying prone on the sidewalk out of my head. Green T-shirt, dark jeans, brown hair. It’s the 10th anniversary of Columbine. I won’t go into that afternoon and night because it was traumatic and emotionally crippling for everyone, everyone and it’s…

  • Miss Placebo

    My folks didn’t pay for my college. Scripps Howard payed a little bit — enough for tuition and a little bit of food — but the rest was up to me. To save money, Mariko, my Siamese cat, and I had moved out of the beautiful old house that had…

  • Golden

    I was sitting on the bus lamenting that America’s Sister Golden Hair had disappeared from my iPod and it got me thinking about the song’s lyrics and it suddenly struck me that they — like many from 20, 30, 40 years ago — might actually not have (gasp) withstood the Test of Time! (Example…

  • So weird, I don’t remember much . . .

    . . . but I do remember piling a bunch of grown dogs, puppies and children into the back of a weathered station wagon that was already crammed with adults and pseudo adults, such as my two oldest children. I know my nieces were there and my mom and sister…

  • Just Do It Anyway

    Walking along Cherry Creek on my lunch break, later than usual, it’s Friday, bitch of a week, it’s after 1:30 p.m. . . . Lost Man’s on his bench. This time he just nods and smiles a broken grin when I go by the first time; on the way back, though, he says his…

  • Tree

    I’m not sure what kind it is, but when we first moved in here — when the house was a child of about 5 — it was already here, firmly rooted in the front yard, and it’s not a birch or a cottonwood and it has pretty, twisted leaves. But one year…

  • It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah

    The sun is beating down like Easter, but it’s not Easter and it’s Saturday and I can’t drink because I gave it up for lent, so I’ll just have to sit in the sun, walk in it, relish in it, for instance downtown for the St. Patrick’s Day celebration, and wait…