magic stuff

December 3, 2018                 We’ve got the cold wrapping up all around us. It’s time for long johns, parkas, and insulated boots. Trekking through snow and slush. Penguin-stepping over ice. Or dodging puddles. It is Michigan, after all. Twenty-seven degrees right now at 7:32 pm but it could … More magic stuff

understand

I have many faults. I’m impatient. Lack discipline. I’m too lazy to understand our differences. And so, I get stuck in deep ruts. My wheels spin. I create paranoia. Make problems that don’t exist. Because I’m bored. Like a coyote in a cage. Running back and forth and back and forth and back and forth … More understand

devastation like this

(Please note, this is a creative work. If you need help, please call 1-800-273-8255. Or reach out to family or friends. It’s bleak, but it isn’t worth shutting the light out.)   I know how deep it gets. A switch clicks. And there is no coming back from it. Whatever IT is. Could be chemicals. … More devastation like this

bull run

It’s a strange trip. Buying the dips. Waiting. Patiently. For the bulls to run. I hope it’s soon. I want to be able to help as many as I should. Not with these little words or necessary acts of kindness—though those will never stop—but with cold hard cash. I want to set up my kids. … More bull run

Kids, look up.

8/18/18—For my kids. You gotta look up. Look forward. At the sky. If you stare too much at the ground beneath your feet, you miss out. On smiling strangers. Monarchs bouncing through the air. Clouds that look like animals. Maybe something from last night’s dream.  It’s easy to miss out on opportunity, to put your … More Kids, look up.

we’d never do that

Everyone suddenly knows what it is that drives a young man to arm himself with a weapon and extinguish light. Driven by their own beliefs, agendas, and experience, they label, pigeon-hole, and validate. Nobody seems to consider that perhaps all of it is more complicated than what we read and hear and see. We want … More we’d never do that

early train

The train. It’s 5:59 in the morning, but the train doesn’t care. It’s as if the conductor has a gripe with this town. Our warm and friendly port on the shore of Lake Huron. He’s blasting that horn continuously. Chugging through town with one mission—to make sure everyone’s up as early as he is. Maybe … More early train