nelson mandela and the great eclipse caper
… my needle therapy had barely begun when the topic of the “Mandela effect” came up. Before that day, I had never heard of such a thing…
swing your way to a more positive outlook
I’ll go out on a limb and suggest that the title of this piece may have turned a few heads. So, now that I have your attention, I’m going to tee up (pun most definitely intended) a few thoughts about how I’ve learned to be a more positive person by sucking at golf.
snow daze
It’s been a week or so since the big snow hit town. When I say, “big snow,” I’m talking big for Nashville. We saw about eight inches where I live, an amount that evokes ridicule from my friends back in Western New York. But here, eight inches might just as well be the end of days.
profane or profound?
Where to begin? I think I’ve had several variations of this conversation over the years, but to this point, I have no resolution. That’s right. At the ripe old age of 53 years, 9 months, and 3 days, I’m still not really sure why swear words are swear words.
free to move about the country
I travel much more for this job than I thought I would. And while I don’t really love all the nonsense that comes with air travel these days, I have to confess it has some advantages. No, I’m not talking about frequent flier miles. Although those don’t suck either. I’m talking about observing the human condition.
pride with a capital j
I marched in my very first Pride parade this year. Yes, it was back in June, but it’s taken me a day or 60 to process all my feelings around the event. Or maybe it’s 75 days. Either way, it’s more than I wanted it to be.
asscam 2023
I started age-appropriate procedures about 7 years early, at 43. And while the result was good, the experience was significantly below average. So, when my doctor advised we go back to the well at 53, well... let’s say I was less than excited.
a disturbance in the force
I have to admit, I felt some butterflies stepping onto the ice with gear for the first time in eight years. I had been on skates exactly twice since my orthopedic surgeon told me to find a new hobby.
channeling vasco da gama
Let’s rewind to the beginning, to the idea of a week-long writing and yoga retreat on a farm outside Lisbon. Writing? That seems right up my alley. Sure, it’s a different kind of writing. Time-boxed. Introspective. With reading out loud to add just a pinch of terror. But okay.
in flight fuckery
This episode of the United Airlines shit show (considering the all-star level ineptness we experienced, I can’t imagine they haven’t had lots of practice at this) featured starring roles from several well-intended employees, an unlikely hero, and a cameo from the good people at TSA in Newark.
the well to hell
The sad truth—as many of us stumbled upon today—is that the road to hell isn’t paved at all. It’s a too-narrow-for-a-normal-car-rocky-lined-with-thorns-on-both-sides dirt path in the middle of fucking nowhere, Portugal.
a new age of life
Amanda Morgan asked me to write a feature article for Older Americans Month. So, I guess that makes me an older American. But, if I may borrow a retort from the Dread Pirate Roberts... “only compared to some.”
I agreed to write this because I like Mandy. Plus, it’s rare I get to write something for work that I can also republish on my personal site. And, well, I’ve encountered some very cool seniors in my life, and it feels good to tell a story or two about a few of them.
farewell, old girl.
I remember the day we got her from Happy Tails. We met a handful of dogs that day. We walked with a few. And they all seemed nice. Then Jake noticed this smallish girl just laying in her crate. People walked by as though she were invisible. Young Jake pointed, and asked “What about that one?”
a generation lost in space
fond memories of one of the strongest influences from my childhood. i’ll miss you.
winning at costco
I know what you’re thinking. Costco is a store. A big store. You don’t win at a store. You go there. You buy things. You go home. There’s no winning. No losing. That’s where you’re wrong.
the maine attraction
quite possibly my new favorite state and future address.
hanging by a thread: the review i didn’t post
i am officially not allowed to book airbnbs anymore. no exceptions.
touchscreens just aren’t my type
I’ve often told people using a touchpad or those imaginary on-screen letters & numbers feels a lot like typing with mittens to me. I can’t make the cursor go where I want it to go and my fingers always manage to touch two keys at once. That would be okay, but why does my screen always—I mean always—choose the wrong key?
a collection of random observations
So, I looked on the wall in my kitchen—that’s where I keep Jake’s recipe—and went to work. I chopped up the vegetables with my fancy new knife. Just about everyone who knows me at all knows I have a bit of a fascination with good knives. And Wusthof makes great knives.
who needs sticks and stones?
You hear it, right? I mean, you do if you’re my age, plus or minus five years. “Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me!”
It’s the snappy comeback our parents taught us to sing at our frenemies when we were kids. And it worked right up until someone decided to pick up a stick or a stone.