Taking the Guilt Train to Little Rock

Taking the Guilt Train to Little Rock

I am objectively a lousy father. Compared to my father, I am a psychotic crack addict trying to raise orchids in a toilet. It started with a rose-colored memory of my family’s driving vacations when I was a boy. Swinging through the western states and the national...

Death’s Practical Jokes Are Better Than Ours

I’ve reached the age where I seem to be attending more funerals than weddings. One of my uncles died this morning. Oddly enough, he expired in his doctor’s office. Right place, but evidently the wrong time. He was my mother’s older brother, but my...

That Stuff That’s Better Than Morphine

I have read that when men are dying they call for their mothers. I can’t swear that’s true, but I can say that some women call for their mothers. At least my mother called for hers when she was dying, not caring that her mother had been dead 50 years. After my mother...