Chickadees, Blue Jays, and Robins are at it. Singing and fighting. Because it is Spring. Earthworms slide across wet sidewalks. Black and gray squirrels leap from powerlines to branches and dance across streets. Most of them make it, but some don’t. We pass these little bodies each day without a second thought. My kids … More making bacon during COVID-19
We were five weeks into it. My trips on weekends to visit. S.B. was living on Stieber Street. Doing her best. Trying to teach art to kids that didn’t get regular meals, words of encouragement, or hugs. She was raising a two-year-old. By herself. In a neighborhood that was just a step above questionable. The … More to S.B. on her birthday
My boy. Fourteen today. 1 4. One. Four. Goddamn. He’s a good spirit. Has good intentions. Is not meant to be bound by the rules. I know this. And yet, I expect him to meet expectations that I know are bullshit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What’s a forty-six year-old, chubby hubby and daddy to do when … More a work in progress
In the kitchen. Taxes on my mind. Knowing I need to get them done because if done right, we’ll get money back. We need this money to live this life we’re living. I understand that the sum of your belongings means nothing. But once you accumulate and have, you expect. It’s ridiculousness at its best. … More the pit
CHAPTER 1—STARLITE BEACH Maggie and I marry on Starlite Beach. A quiet, quarter-mile stretch of sandy shoreline in Thunder Bay, Michigan. We are barefoot and all smiles as we watch giant black-and-blue clouds roll over Lake Huron. They are electrified with lightning. Thunder rumbles, the storm inches closer, and Reverend Romanowski—one of Maggie’s Dad’s long-time … More Devotion – Chapter 1
September 7, 2019 9:01 am They walk by without saying good morning, even if I’ve said it first. They sit in front of the TV, a tablet, their phone and let the dog or cat eat from their abandoned cereal or snack bowl. Hey…wait a minute. When did they start eating on the couch? There … More two-face and smiling darkside
Round-faced and tow-headed. Tan from hours of summer sun. A kid on the swings. Back-and-forth. Little hands wrapped tight. Around the chains. Arms and legs pumping. Eyes closed on the backswing. Open on the return. My first taste of freedom. Like flying. Summer days spent on the swings. Singing Elvis Presley songs. For my Dad, … More swinging
