Category

But more akin to bioluminescenceAs performed by fireflies, late on summer nightsAfter everyone has fallen asleep.If you please, though, not those horrible creaturesOf the deep, dark ocean, who use their eerie lightsTo attract hapless prey, whom they capture and gnashWith sharp teeth. No offense, guys, but that’s aPathetic way to go about your life. It’s not so much an old flameBut more akin to an old spice—Not the to

As announced by both odor and verbally, the 4-year old had an extremely impressive accident while trapped in his car seat. My wife and the teenager express their lack of interest in remediating the problem. “Maxwell, find the nearest exit with a gas station,” I proclaim. “I will take Nathen inside. You follow me with a change of clothes in a plastic bag. Do you understand?” He confirms. Five minutes later we pull int

Among us baseball fans, Lakeland, Florida, is known for the charmingly-named Joker Marchant Stadium, the spring-training home of the Detroit Tigers. My visit revealed a slight tarnish to the facility due to its new official name, which is Publix Field at Joker Marchant Stadium, after the supermarket chain. But as I learned, Publix is headquartered in Lakeland and a source of civic pride and employment, plus I’m sure

Some titles tell you everything you need to know about the article, skit, show, etc. My latest favorite example is a cartoon short from Saturday Night Live, entitled “Middle Aged Mutant Ninja Turtles.” No need to actually watch the cartoon, the title (assuming you are familiar with the reference) tells the whole story. Until recently we had a rooster that cock-a-doodle-doo’ed the opening chords of the theme to “Get S

The Flintstones led impossible lives. They purchased winning lottery tickets. Celebrities visited them. A magical space alien, “The Great Gazoo”, served Fred and Barney for several episodes, as did various well-behaved dinosaurs and related creatures who were trained for roles as vacuum cleaners, can openers, and lawn mowers. Houses were bigger on the inside than the outside. The conceit of WandaVision, a recent ente

Welcome to God’s Country(Note: Essay originally written in January, 2018—JB) At Charlotte Douglas International Airport, I step outside the terminal into gorgeous 70 degree weather. Rolling behind me is my businessman’s suitcase, while slung over my shoulder are two ski bags—a long skinny one for my Elans, a short dumpy affair for the boots.   I flag down the hotel shuttle, and its driver stares at m

A COVID vaccine with my name on it is due to be injected sometime in the next few weeks, and the wife and teenager should soon follow. As far as I can tell, that’s license for renewing our annual road trip this summer—a dream shared by a zillion other middle-class families in the country, so I imagine, but we’re going for it anyway. The interested parties (myself, my wife, the teenager) have been discussing the road

Many of you have asked about the health of Pawlie the Cat, whom (last we spoke) was suffering a heavily-abused tail. The good news is that the tail amputation was successful. Pawlie has now rejoined the household with no ill effect, and is back to his official duties of….well, whatever it is the cat does all day. None of you asked about the scrapped ash-gray T shirt that my wife had appropriated for a tail bandage. R

March 1, 2021 All I wanted was an empty cardboard box for holding firewood. We go through a lot of firewood, which means we go through a lot of cardboard boxes. But there it was, in a box by the edge of the dumpster, forgotten but not forlorn, hiding under some loose papers and a cardboard divider. There it was, a bottle of Modelo, a Mexican import, its gold tinsel wrapper still affixed on cap. Ice cold, too—because