Always the Men
Just when I’ve turned to head to the bar, one of the men grabs my arm and says, “Hey, you know who you look like? Like the girl from the Addams’ family!”
Rokovoko
The epigraph is probably the grandparent to the murky boundaries between the content and not-quite-content sandwiched by a book’s front and back covers.
Nineteenth-Century Recommendations
These commands from a nineteenth-century dissident are more intimidating and door-slamming than inspiring. How can we go confidently in a direction when we don’t know which direction to go?
Directionally Disabled
I am astounded by those who can internalize the length of a road, noting landmarks and intersections. My roads are more like fishing lines; I don’t find out what’s at the end until I’ve reeled myself in.
A College Graduate Asks Us Five Simple Questions. The Answers Will Change Your Life Forever
Said acquaintance makes a skittish joke. You choke up an overcompensating laugh and wince your eyes shut. When they re-open, the house is an inferno.
Look at the Poo Poo
I asked my brother Sam, father of three, why kids hate going potty. His son Judah had, moments before, flat out denied need of the potty despite wobbling through the house with crossed legs.
Weaker Than
So if a thesis has to be mined from The Weakerthans’ incredible corpus, it must at least mention strength, the loss of it, and its recapture.
My Year in Data
I’m all for having a Mint account to track budgets, and I’m certainly a proponent of keeping journals and calendars, but we’re coming to live in an age that is frighteningly invasive in its observation.
A Cormac McCarthy Christmas
In my most profound experience of joy at the Savior’s arrival, perhaps there rang on heaven’s side a blow of sadness and pain wrought from the reality of impending suffering, separation, and death.
Negativity Scene
It’s okay that you hate Christmas! You’re not the grinch and I’m not Cindy-Lou-Who (first of all, I could never pull off that hairdo). You’re not the villain; I’m not the hero.
