Pink podcasts

Just finished another podcast of Mornings with Charlie Ann. We discussed concrete mix trucks, squirrels, pine cones, Tesla vs Edison, and why there are very few married pickleball partners. Macon, Georgia was awesome and the pickleball venue next to Mercer university had 26 brand new courts. Karen Mason Taylor carried us to victory in our […]

Roger’s Library Books

I’m not such an unaware narcissist that I believe that I’m the only one Roger Hladky blessed in a powerful way. I was one among many.  It was long after Roger performed our wedding ceremony, his first to officiate. I was a father, my children grown and flown, an elder at our church back in […]

A Mother’s Gaze

My life is now viewed through the lens of my children’s children. They call me Bubs. Karen and I spent this past week with Jenna, Andrew, and their newborn girl, Charlie Ann. This brought back memories of bringing home our daughter Lauren after a few days in the hospital. I remember thinking it incredible that […]

Look up, child

Look up, child. The moon once pregnant, rises above the trees and changes to a fertile crescent. Days go by, frost greets dawn. Leaves turn, yellow red brown, chastened from branches, by a blue wind. See the swirl of autumn, that rains brilliant leaves, falling, hugging the earth, old friends. The days shine, a sparkling […]

Unfound Doors

I’m writing this from the 17th floor of a beach-side balcony with one eye on the sun rising over the Atlantic Ocean and one eye on my screen. The sun rises in the east just like at home where Karen and I admire it’s ascent from our garden patio each morning in Oklahoma. Here it […]

Flying to Carolina

My wife tells me she would like to get inside my head for a day and just look around. I tell her I’d like a little notice so I can tidy up the place, take out the trash, and make my bed.  Maybe today would be a good day for her to visit my brain […]

Fishing with a Dotted Line

The young woman helping us was friendly and we struck up a conversation. We tell her about our fly fishing trip and she says, “I love to fly fish!” She tells about her Dad taking her fly fishing just down the road. Before wading into the river, they would stand on a bridge above the water watching the motions of the trout. She loved how they drifted with the current.

We May Never Pass This Way Again

My summer of 1977 was bookended by Harry and Elvis. Harry Whittaker, the President of our Senior Class at College High School, always had a way of making you feel better than you had the right to feel about yourself. We were talking, just hours removed from walking across the stage to receive our diplomas. […]