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What Weird Times These Are

Oh, boy. Please, 2022, be better than (at least the last part of) 2021. I’m looking back over the past month or so and thinking that if I tried to write it as a story, any decent editor would reject it as far too improbable. Here’s a (not so) quick

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Morning By Morning

Tuesday, February 19, about 8:45 a.m. Just a bit more than nine months ago. I was about to leave for work when my phone rang.

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Colors of Life

I’m blessed with amazing friends, who are black white Christian Jewish atheist Muslim gay straight bi transsexual empty nesters parents of small children parents of

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Funk.

Funk has at least three meanings: it is defined as a genre of music, a foul smell, or a dejected mood. I’m kind of familiar

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