The most gratuitous use of power I’ve ever witnessed occurred about four years ago when my then 12-year-old daughter was “dating” this Korean kid in middle school. This boy was gaga over her, and he was nice, and so she liked hanging out with him. It was a beautiful Saturday and we invited him to join us on a bike ride along the greenway. About an hour into it we were taking a break when my daughter said, “Hey Dad, John (not real name)…
A human being thought the bombing through. If we’re all born innocent and pure, and we all agree that murder is bad, at what point do we give in to evil? I’ll tell you, when we forget to move toward the light. Because the dark side is an easy sell. Lust. Money. Power. These are easy concepts to sell people (trust me, I’m in advertising.) Love, however, takes patience and tolerance. In other words, work. I once attended a Zig Ziglar…
It was a simple affair. A white trellis adorned with fresh gardenia. Two rows of white chairs. We held the ceremony at the home of a friend who lived on a tributary of the St. John’s River. There were maybe a dozen people present. My parents came in from Texas. Her mom and a friend drove down from New Jersey. Because it was such a simple wedding, we felt guilty about them coming at all—but they insisted. And so here…
People love their dogs. I mean REALLY love them. And you kinda have to, right? I mean, when you invite a dog into your life you spend 10-14 years with them pretty much every day. And they’re always there with a happy face and wet nose. It doesn’t matter whether you’re going through tough times. It doesn’t matter that the world feels like it’s closing in around you. The relationships we have with our dogs are based on something that…
A week after Trump Care passed, we find a woman, a girl, and a baby in the kitchen of a house in the rural south. GIRL (16): But Momma, because baby Brittany was sick at birth, she’s gonna lose her heath care now. WOMAN: It’ll be fine, Darlene Mae. We’ll make do. The important thing is that we keep winning the war against the libtards who want to give away our hard-earned money to people who sit around smoking pot…
The following is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the guilty. In 1982 I was sixteen. A skinny white punk in the suburbs of Houston who hung around a few other like dregs. We weren’t into school, weren’t into social conformity, but were into heavy metal. We were into chicks too, but the chicks hadn’t come around to metal yet and so we existed, together, a band of suburb outlaws. We hung out in the woods…
