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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.
The World Series. For Real.
I’m at a World Series game. No, really. Game 4 at Busch Stadium. Cardinal baseball isn’t just my obsession, it’s a family tradition. And to
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
How to Dice an Onion Like a Doctor
My brother-in-law is an incredible cook. If he weren’t an excellent physician, he’d own a restaurant and be a highly-regarded chef, I’m sure. So when
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
What Baseball was Like in the 1960s and 1970s
My passion for baseball began at an early age and grew, as each year our family headed to St. Louis for a series, usually in
RIP Sweet Molly Girl: 14 Years of Love
In happier days — she loved playing with this foam football. She’d bring it to us over and over until we got tired of throwing. One
On the Occasion of His 20th Anniversary in Heaven
Daddy and Jim were always talking about camaras. I’ve noticed for the past week or so that I’ve felt inexplicably blue. Even though they come
Social Media, Tornadoes, and Sirens
I admit I’m particularly freaky about thunderstorms, and when the tornado sirens go off, my blood pressure tends to rise precipitously as the barometric pressure
