And so here we are off on brave new directions once again. In 2009 we killed our cable television service for an internet connection and free over-the-air HD TV for local channels. And we’re perfectly fine with it. Now, most of our content, as a family, comes via the internet. And not just Netflix. About 5 years ago I wanted to listen to MLB games in our car. So we signed on with XM Radio. It was brilliant. The cumbersome…
Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up. – Picasso As the end of the school year approaches, I’m grateful that our daughters have managed to learn enough in 2nd and 4th grades so that they get to advance to 3rd and 5th, respectively. There was a time, however, when this wasn’t good enough. When the idea of being normal was unsatisfactory. That my children, by God, were going to be…
she floated up the brick steps to me. ‘daddy!’ she called, smiling – the afternoon air thick with sweet magnolia. i knelt down and received her with a smacking of lips. ‘how was your day?’ i asked. ‘awesome,’ she said. ‘let’s have popsicles.’ *** Jim Mitchem
They come in on cat’s paws called Benson & Hedges Lights 100s. Because they’re girl cigarettes, they’re not real. Your best friend stole some from his sister. His older, hot sister. And you light up because there’s nothing else to do. Then you’re hooked. Mostly for the cool of it, but not really. The addiction takes hold quickly on the backend without you realizing it. Then comes the drink. And drugs. But mostly the drink, because it’s more accessible. Only…
I live in NC, but grew up in the Deep South. I know what you’re thinking, that NC is the Deep South – but it’s not. I was born in Northeast Florida and lived there until I was 13, when my parents, who were very young and naïve, ripped my life out from under me and moved us to Baton Rouge, and then Houston a year later. I grew up thinking that anything above Interstate 10 wasn’t really the Deep…
Coffee. Children. Dogs. Cleaning a desk and preparing to write. Too much preparing. A bite to eat, and then sitting down. The phone rings, naturally, and I take it outside. It’s clearer out there. I pace the perimeter of the yard like a king surveying his dominion – apologizing to the grass as I needlessly trample it. I am coherent. Sharp. The call ends and I linger outside as the dogs demand that I engage them. I throw a ball…
