A month or so ago I wrote that I had told Dad my dream of the way he’d pass away. He and I don’t talk about certain things. It’s an unwritten agreement. One of the things we don’t talk about is what happens when people die. We almost did one time, not that long ago…
Sgt. Joe Friday apparently never said it, but this piece will be the Jack Webb version: “Just the facts, ma’am.” {Apparently he did often say: “All we want are the facts, ma’am”and sometimes “All we know are the facts ma’am”} It was the years 2000 and 2001. It was the years of the presidential election…
I just spent several minutes searching for an entry in my first journal. Well not actually my “first” journal, but the first one that has continued for any length of time. Sixteen hundred seventy seven days. Whodda thought I’d ever develop such discipline? The search was a washout. A dud. But, more accurately, the journal…
It is right up there on my list of favorite “questions from Shelly.” There have been some doozies. The one at the top of the list has been there since our first date. (What’s said in the Corolla on 10/13/12, with The Rainmakers album “25 on” playing, stays in the Corolla….) When she asked the…