Those of us who have faced serious illness are more than aware of the emotions we all have in common before inevitable tests, procedures and surgeries.
Et tu, Boy’s Life? When I was a young Boy Sprout, one of my chief pleasures in life was the arrival of Boy’s Life, the official magazine of the Boy Scouts of America, in my mailbox.
The recent mockery of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford on Facebook seems to fall into one of three categories.A - The posts from folks who still believe everything they read online.
Over the years I suspect that I could find maybe ten, twelve people who could attest to the fact that I am a fellow of good character, and that they could not imagine me doing anything untoward.
Throughout my life I have usually had but a handful of trusted intimates. When I was younger this was due to painful shyness, but as I have grown older, I have come to believe that this is the natural order of things.
Time Travel Apology Tour I have been thinking, the last few years, how nice it would be to have a time machine, to enable one to go back in time and try to smooth over one’s screw ups.
Back in the days when I would take long walks at night and early morning, South Fayetteville was always one of my favorite parts of town to travel in, working out any creative (or otherwise) problems I might be having.
Well, it’s been a relaxing few weeks away from the world of Internet Outrage, but now that I have a few minutes to spare, I thought I’d post something, lest whatever writing skills I still have atrophy and wither away.
I’ve had The Procedure twice now at Little Rock’s UAMS, and oddly, instead of thinking about my health, I find my mind occasionally drifting to the subject of socks.
I was telling Tracy about films coming to the base theater when I was a kid, and I suddenly remembered that - especially if you were stationed in a non-English speaking country - pretty much the only movie previews we saw were the ones shown at the theater.
Though my prognosis doesn’t seem as dire as it did a few months ago, there are still occasional days when I feel like death warmed over - hence the fact that I am not as diehard in my writing as I should be.