I don’t have to use a walker to pump my gas.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, humor, life
I have realized, lately, that I am, at best, a third cousin once removed from my own definition of self-awareness. I like to think I'm savvy and a smooth operator, most of the time, but I had a bit of a bitter pill to swallow yesterday, when, on my way back from Scooba (perish the thought!), I had to stop and get gas. This is hardly a new thing for me, but unlike my usual stop-and-gos at the Scooba Junction gas station, I had neglected to look at my gas gauge until I was in Brooksville, about twenty minutes north. I had no choice but to pull...
That one time I rode on Amtrak.
Filed under: Everyday, family, food, humor, life
I never really bought into the sentiment of those Lionel train commercials. Have you ever seen those? Their propaganda touts this concrete belief that Americans have some highly wrought love affair with trains. They're usually spread all over the airwaves around this time, each year. Because nothing says Christmas quite like the stumble-trap of a miniature railroad system circling hour after hour around the base of your tree. My grandmother, she’s 93 as of yesterday, and she had this train set that she would year-in-year-out place around the Christmas tree, letting it silently circle on its tracks, beneath the Douglas Fir. Inevitably, she’d forget...
Faith for five dollars…and Tennessee Williams.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, education, faith, family, life, theatre, writing
I did something nearly unforgiveable, today: I cried in class. Don't worry, no one saw me. The lights were off, and most were, I'm happy to say, engrossed in the video documentary I was showing on Tennessee Williams. I counted three sleeping students, but I only heard two of them...so I let them rest. They're athletes and all, you know. I've seen this A&E video on Williams a hundred thousand and six times, but today, today, the story resonated in a deep and tragic way, wholly new to me. I suppose it's the stress, I'm saying it's the stress, but whatever it was, it touched...
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