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I remember walking the halls of my old grade school in my early twenties when I was busily fulfilling the truth of George Bernard Shaw’s old saw, “Youth is wasted on the young.” The halls had mysteriously shrunk but the place still smelled of pine-scented cleaner on polished linoleum. They tore the school down in…
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I write when I am well. Shall I not write when I am not? You know it’s serious when the medical staff asks you twenty times to state your name and birthday within the framework of thirty minutes. I consider changing my answer, either name or birthday or both, to see if my diagnosis and…
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The remains of my Father-in-law were scattered to the four winds from atop Bowman’s Hill Tower on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware River. Thomas Mason’s children loved this family getaway place near the spot where George Washington crossed over to Trenton, New Jersey on Christmas night in 1776. George Washington became our first President…
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I’ve been hanging out at the office with Emery, my 10-month-old granddaughter. She comes to work with her mom. Emery makes me laugh, and I make her giggle. She is a lousy employee; she sleeps a lot and doesn’t get much work done. On warm, sunny days, we walk around the pond next to our…
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There’s an old saying spun different ways but the essence is, “If you aren’t an insurrectionist at eighteen, you have no heart. And if you aren’t a flag-waving patriot at thirty-five, you have no brain.” This seems truer as time goes by. In my youth, as the Star-Spangled Banner was played at sporting events, I…
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There is a pickleball tournament in my hometown of Bartlesville, OK this weekend. Over 200 players are here to play pickleball. But that is not all. We also catch up on our lives, share pictures of children and grandchildren, discuss knee injuries and joint pain, experience the thrill of victory and the lessons of defeat,…
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“I’m just a guy, man, who writes songs,” John Lennon once exclaimed, to a neurotic American man who flew to England to visit with Lennon about his songwriting. It turns out that this crazy man believed that Lennon’s songs were written exclusively about him. Any sensible person knows that this is vanity. But great songwriting grabs…
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“We are coming to Salt Lake City!” I have been telling Steve and Suzan that for years. I finally followed through with a visit to SLC. According to Steve Osborn, I am his longest tenured friend going back to 1967. We were watching the Sooners last night just like we did on New Years Eve…
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We are in our third home. We have been to Houston four times in the last 10 months. We decided to do something fun between visits to the doc. Here are some photos of our guided walking tour of the downtown Houston food scene. Me: “what did you think?” Karen: “Best mexican food ever.” Included…
Bespoke 