So there I was, no shit. Standing in the express lane at Wal-Mart. After $250 worth of groceries (read: Ingredients for all the mandatory Christmas crap I am planning on making tomorrow, none of which includes turkey or ham or really anything except cookies and cookies and chocolate things), I noticed that I had forgotten […]Continue reading The Man and The Fruitcake (Pictorial)
I kind of suck at interior decorating. Always have. My house is probably one step away from being a fully functional bachelor pad. I visit other folks’ houses and am just aghast at all the “stuff” they have. Tchotchkes and thingamabobs and even huge armoirs to display all their thingamabobs! Houses filled to bursting with […]Continue reading Tarantallegra!
There is no fucking way you are a military family if…… 1. Your 15-year-old son still lives in the town he was born in. 2. You haven’t set foot in a commissary in months. You haven’t gone full-on grocery shopping in a commissary in years. 3. Going on post still requires the use of your […]Continue reading “Dependent” Fail
It’s always an experience to hear Jake tell stories. He, my baby chile, got questioned by the law this morning. It’s understandable. It’s a school day. A random hooligan is walking around the neighborhood. Of course, the cops are going to be suspicious. Just more proof that my kid’s entire life is improv and the […]Continue reading Fish Story
I ate a piece of chocolate cake today. Because some days you just need chocolate cake. It does something to your soul that money or love or babies or puppies just can’t duplicate. When you’re eating chocolate cake, you’re suddenly teleported back to age 12, when babies were cute, puppies were cuter, money was for […]Continue reading Discourse on Love and Cake
When I was a little boy, maybe 7 or 8 I guess, there was a high dive at the city pool. It’s not there anymore. But it was back then. And the city pool was only 2 blocks from my house. Yeah. I pretty much lived there during the summer. All day. My favorite thing […]Continue reading Back Flips and Pigtails
Have you ever taught someone to write? I don’t mean grammar or spelling or purposeless academic filler, I mean really led someone by the hand into the caverns of their own mind. Have you taught them to truly communicate with the written word, to turn themselves inside out, filling this blank white space with heaves […]Continue reading Languish Arts
I’m sitting on the couch in my underbritches. It’s 1 o’clock in the morning. Everyone is asleep but me. My dog snores, old, creaky, she shifts position and snores again. I like walking around the house in my underbritches at night. It’s a freedom thing. Because I like the way my legs feel when I […]Continue reading Cup of Night
When I was a kid, I drifted. In my head, I drifted frequently, in and out of the present, turning my tangible world off and on when it suited me. Everyone drifts a little bit from time to time. Even if you’re just scribbling in the margins of your paper in American History, you’re drifting. […]Continue reading Drifting the Word
I have always tended to follow my instincts much more than my noggin. What feels right seems to overwhelmingly usurp carefully weighed decisions, or even some things most people would see as common sense. Take homeschooling for instance. Many, many things contributed to that decision, most of them stemming from feelings rather than facts. Feelings. […]Continue reading Oh my god! You mean you actually DID IT?!
Well, it’s official. We have come out of the dark ages of television and replaced our gigantic, monstrous, old-timey TV with a flat screen HD thingamafuck. Don’t misunderstand me. This son of a bitch is a 55-inch flat screen thingamafuck. Oh yes, nothing but the biggest for Sarge. At least the biggest for sale at […]Continue reading We’ve resisted the urge to replace our perfectly good TVs so far.
I think I’m tired of people telling me to write a novel. Nope. I’m positive I’m tired of it. I thought I wanted to for a while. It just seemed like the sensible course of action from as far back as grade school. That’s what writers do, yes? I’ve figured something out. My mind doesn’t […]Continue reading Two Turntables and a Microphone