After that, I ate my chocolate cobbler in silence.
This past Sunday, my youngest nephew, Wynn, who by the way is a few months shy of three and has already rightfully earned the nickname of “Chunk,” turned to me and asked for coffee. “What…did you…say?” I implored of him. “Coffee,” he responded, and then with a nod of the head as if recognizing that he’d forgotten the magic word, added, “pease?” It’s always precious when the little ones remember that fading concept known as “manners.” But, precious aside, I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. I went in search of his mother. She wasn’t a bit thrown off by what I felt had...
So, that one time, I committed a crime, OK?
Let me tell you why I like Lowe’s. They’re not afraid to bend the rules, for you. I can’t say how far they would bend them—sharing trade secrets, “extras” given rather than purchased—but I will tell you this: they’ll go the distance to help you get mint. Every year around this time, this humid, wet, hot time, I get the notion that, once again, who I really am has nothing to do with theatre, writing, or teaching. No, who I am, in fact, is a Farmer. I drag out the tools from the side of the house and cultivate the small...
This is a sappy blog, and it was well overdue.
The last good day I had was back in 1994, in October, on a Thursday afternoon. I was in line at McDonald's waiting for a milkshake, and the man in front of me turned around and gave me $15 because he liked my smile. That is an absolute lie. I have no record of good days versus bad days. I just try to get through them, either way. Like the rest of the herd. I was reared by a bona fide cynic. I got it honest. Our world view was as follows: Bad day…well, at least, it’s only got 24 hours to live....
I daisy-chained the heck out of this head cold.
It was something I’d wondered for years, myself. A.K., bless his heart, was sick with a cold a couple of weeks ago, a cold I should point out that he gave to everyone else. As a matter of fact, Amanda is currently sick with a cold that originated, I would imagine, in the nostrils of some other five-year-old in A.K.’s kindergarten class. Thankfully, it’s a private school. (I really ought to write for 30 Rock; that sounds just like something Jack would say). At any rate, A.K., while sitting at the dinner table two Sundays back, turned to me and asked point-blank: Where does...
I couldn’t see the title of the book so it must have been about Scientology.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, health, humor, life
I There’s a reason people get sick—the attention. But, I’ve discovered as of this morning, there’s a reason good friends drive their sick friends to the doctor and then spend the next two hours in the waiting room having their patience tested—the neighborhood. Of course, this requires explanation. It’s 10:03 AM, and I’ve brought Amanda to the Student Health Center. She’s been very sick to her stomach, and I felt she needed better attention than my telling her to “take it to the toilet” every hour or so. Little did I know the call to action that I was unwittingly engaging myself in. I found...
It doesn’t matter because we’re eating Chinese food.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, food, life, writing
Nothing irks me quite the way getting a bum Chinese fortune cookie does. And I love me a good Chinese fortune cookie. I live for them; I just don’t eat them – in case they come true. The only reason I frequent any Chinese buffet, though, even the one in Dekalb, is for the sole purpose of receiving, $9.00 later, that little baked, folded, American invention we call the Chinese fortune cookie. I guess there’s a little of Ya Ya in me, after all. Because of her, I reserve a small portion of my spirituality for the sake of superstition. It’s fun. And she taught...
I’m not sure if it was a dead animal or just cheese grits.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, life, writing
They’ve got something with doors, around here. It’s the oddest thing: no double doors are both unlocked, at the same time. Only one side is. Ever. And you never know which side because it’s never the same side. This causes no end of embarrassment, as you can imagine. Especially for me, a new faculty member. Call me crazy but it really is a blow to your credibility when you can’t even open a door properly. It’s happened to me twice already today. This morning as I went to deliver the receipts from my conference trip, I turned back to tell the secretary, “Have a good...
I can't die here, not this close to the Mennonite bakery.
Filed under: Deep South, faith, family, food, health
I think I almost died last Friday morning, right outside of Macon, Mississippi. The weather was atrocious, as it has been for the past two solid weeks; the rain was torrential (FYI: that's a word on My Favorite Words List, which I keep in my glove compartment), the wind was ridiculous, and the roads held pockets of watery vengeance...but that's not what I thought was I dying from. Because I'm a fairly safe driver. It's one of the good qualities I inherited from my father. I kept my cruise control right on 60 mph, stayed in the slow lane, and I'd successfully...
Real love requires 2" heels, at least.
That Ken Ludwig. Man. He can't write a play without causing serious damage to the ankles. (That's what my feet are saying, anyway. Ah, well, there's a price to be paid for anything, huh?) I'm sorry if this comes across, at first, like a shameless plug for the current production of Leading Ladies that I'm in - it wouldn't matter anyway, if it did; we're practically sold out for the rest of this run. We've only got one more week, and then...it's curtains. Literally. But, out of the goodness of my heart, and since I'm a Christian man (from the waist up, anyway), I'll gladly give you the...
Am I merely a heathen, now? Is that what this heartburn is indicating?
I don't want to write this blog. I really don't. (Of course, I'm going to, but still...you should know that I don't really want to). I don't want to write it because it's going to force me to seriously consider the points I'm about to make, or attempt to. Points that are more than likely going to be offensive, both about myself and the culture I live in...and probably to one or two of you, at the least. I like God, let me just say that, upfront. I even like Jesus. I don't know when the last time was that I...
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