Instead of having a full- and part-time job, now I’m down to just one gig for the next eleven days. I do have scripts to revise and Continue reading
I found a bandana in my sock drawer and tied it around my head for funsies. In the mirror, I looked like a grizzled cook from an episode of Chopped, and not one of the newly-minted grandpas aiming for culinary redemption but one of the bandy-kneed kitchen mutts desperate for cash.
Three times I went downstairs Continue reading
It was the writing on the dusty window trick. I am immature enough to laugh at vulgar things but old enough to know better than to post pictures of them online.
The canvas for the graffiti artist was a Continue reading
Jack Woodward would have turned 92 today. Here is the eulogy I wrote about my father. Please excuse more typos than usual. It’s a hard document for me to edit.
To understand the kind of life Jack Woodward lived, all you had to do was look him in the face. He wasn’t born with that nose, that indomitable schnauz — he earned it the hard way, one punch at a time. And the dentures? He didn’t lose his teeth all at once, but he lost his top front pair just after boot camp, catching a bar stool across the mouth. The big wrinkles were chiseled by 87 years, the fine wrinkles from smoking nearly as long. His workingman’s tan never quite faded. But the thing I always noticed, and will remember most, was his lopsided grin.
About President Trump and his Reign of Blabbery, one of my Facebook friends wrote, “I’m running out of capacity for feeling enraged. Which I’m pretty sure was his plan, all along.”
Amen, brother, and pass the Xanax. Continue reading
Got the new facial hair trimmed by my barber last week. For some reason, I thought the experience would be more of an experience, kind of like when a spaghetti western gunfighter rides in from the sage and sits for his first shave in a month.
Last night was one of those times when I didn’t feel like writing on my side projects. What I suffered was not procrastination but full-blown paralysis.
Nothing seemed worth committing to paper. Everything seemed trodden. Continue reading
I bought a new Fitbit and I’m going for walks again. I’m fixated on getting 10,000 steps daily, and have passed the mark every day so far, except for the first. (I bought my Flex 2 in the evening, so I didn’t have time to charge it and walk five miles before midnight. For a quasi-obsessive person, I can be a poor planner.)