There is No Middle Ground

I’m sitting in skybox 306 in the BOK center and the Broken Arrow band is playing Pomp and Circumstance as 1,137 Broken Arrow Seniors stream down eight aisles like ants who have discovered a donut on the sidewalk. This isn’t anything like my graduation except it was also in a gymnasium, where I sat by…… Continue reading There is No Middle Ground

The Color of God

The bus crossed the 7th street bridge and I peered over the rail through an open window at the eddies of a muddy river, swirling coffee relentlessly shaping the bank of naked earth. On my first day of junior high ringing bells punctuated my hourly class schedule. This change in my academic life assaulted my…… Continue reading The Color of God

1967 World Series

Tonight the Red Sox, my favorite Junior Circuit team, and the Cardinals, my favorite all-time baseball team, square off in Game one of the 2013 World Series. Don’t tell MLB, but it’s really just the Championship of the U.S. since we don’t invite the rest of the world or other planets. Anyway, in 1967, I…… Continue reading 1967 World Series

It’s Sweet to Play Like You Are Loved

One of the most memorable rounds of golf I’ve ever played, I played angry. And it came on the heels of an exchange with a man we called Sweet, even though decorum and his given name, Edward Muir Sweet, demanded we call him, Mr. Sweet. The elimination of the honorary title, Mr., was not an…… Continue reading It’s Sweet to Play Like You Are Loved

Caddying for the Younger Generation – Part 2

I sat on my hotel bed the night before the opening round and read about notable players including a golfer from Shreveport named Hal Sutton who had already won the Western Amateur that summer. I’m playing with Hal Sutton who would win the PGA in 1983 and was Ryder Cup captain later in his career.…… Continue reading Caddying for the Younger Generation – Part 2

Caddying for the Younger Generation

Francis Chan put hands over his face and agonized about whether to speak the unspeakable to a traditionally proud and spiritually cloistered group that appeared from his stage perch decidedly gray, liver-spotted hands enshrouding the candle lit flame that once was a raging bonfire. He was speaking to me and to my elders and leaders…… Continue reading Caddying for the Younger Generation

Becky Ran Home Today

Becky Marie Davis ran home today. The last time she ran was 1954. But today, her legs were unbound, her lungs filled with fresh air, her heart soaked in heavens glory. As I’ve watched the graceful withering of my Aunt Becky’s physical nature I’ve observed the astounding levity of her soul. One can easily suggest…… Continue reading Becky Ran Home Today

I’m Pilgrim, but My Indian is Stirring

Part one My daughter Lauren has an ear tag from birth about the size of an uncooked lentil. At the age of four, she informed her two younger siblings that her ear tag was Cherokee Indian…the rest of her was Pilgrim. My understanding of my own Native Indian heritage is apparently less considered. During my…… Continue reading I’m Pilgrim, but My Indian is Stirring

Sonic hearing $19.95…the Wisdom of George Eliot, Priceless

It was payday, and my son, home from college for the weekend could smell cash. Having just purchased the latest Apple laptop with borrowed funds, he was on a mission to earn money to pay for his new computer. He had driven home from Norman to help celebrate his Mom’s 50th birthday and had called…… Continue reading Sonic hearing $19.95…the Wisdom of George Eliot, Priceless

The Boy The Man & Gravel Baseball

I’ve always loved baseball. Even though it’s a team game, I found solitary ways to embrace it’s poetic rhythms. I was a baseball Walter Mitty, transported to Busch Stadium in St. Louis. I straddled the mound glaring at the batter with annoyed disdain. I emulated Bob Gibson, throwing a rubber baseball against the brick wall…… Continue reading The Boy The Man & Gravel Baseball