A Dude's Guide to. . .

Living Through The Stoopid

I once got hit in the head — repeatedly — for charity. 

I know how that sounds. It wasn’t that bad 

It was worse. 

When I matriculated at the University of Florida, I was almost a thousand miles from home and didn’t know anyone other than grandparents who lived nearby. Seeing as how I don’t really know how to make friends all that well, I figured I should repeat the process I’d perfected…

Like THAT’S Gonna Work

I know when I post something political I’m not going to change your mind. I know it and I still can’t help myself from posting about the current occupant of the White House.

If, after four years of watching a malignant narcissist sow chaos around the world; attempt to bully and degrade anyone who does not agree with him; flatly refuse to accept scientific factbecause it does not jibe with his…

Let’s Talk About Fear (Happy Father’s Day)

The first time I held my oldest son in my arms, all I felt was a warm rush of incredible joy and a sense of jaw-dropping, gobsmacked wonder at the perfect, wonderful, beautiful innocent we had made. And then the fear arrived.

The fear sort of sidled up from the corner, insinuating itself a little at a time. Sort of introducing itself to me, one rapidly increasing heartbeat at a time, until the…

What If I’m Wrong?

So. . . Let’s assume I’m wrong.

Let’s assume that there is no need to wear a face covering when I’m outside in situations where I cannot practice safe physical distancing. Let’s assume that me wearing a mask to protect other people in case I’m infected with coronavirus and asymptomatic isn’t necessary.

Okay? Great.

Let’s further assume that I keep wearing the mask. Just in case. Or…

Manly Men Doing Manly Things

When John Wayne rode the wastes of the wild west dispensing justice from the barrel of a six-gun and duking it out with the baddies, he wasn’t behind the wheel of a minivan. When John McClane refused to die easy and saved the Nakatomi Plaza from a band of Eurotrash terrorists, he didn’t do it from the spacious third-row seating of a minivan. When I save my family from starvation, brave the…

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In Requiem: Dying Is Worse

My mom died. This is the story of what happened. The first part of the story is here. My sister and I tried to get a battered Mom into a rehabilitation hospital. All Mom had to do was swallow, prove she was on the mend. She didn't because she wasn't. The weasels running Mom’s care at the hospital began feeling their oats, thinking we’d have to give in to what they wanted since Mom wasn’t going to…

In Requiem: Death Sucks

From across the open, glass-walled atrium, sitting in a large, but strangely uncomfortable chair, I watched the door across the hallway open. My heart tried to beat faster, but couldn’t work up the enthusiasm. A large woman wearing white backed into the hallway, her feet encased in white canvas-and-rubber shoes that squeaked every single time she took a step on one of the institutional white…

Acting A Bit Squirrelly

It’s the fluffy tail that fools you. That and the way they hold their obnoxiously gained food up between their paws, grasping it with their poorly developed thumbs, and nibble at it, taking one little bite at a time but very quickly. And despite those huge teeth. They’ve got fur, of course. That comes along with the furry tail, that does. The presence of fur makes any animal just that much more…

A Snake In The Grass

I believe the phrase was something along the lines of, “AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!” Or words to that effect. In any case, I said something completely appropriate and totally not twelve-year-old-girl- Rowan Atkinson’s “Mr. Bean” shaving his tongue. And I’m WAY more manly than him. I mean. . . he’s ENGLISH! seeing-Nick-Jonas-In-Her-Living-Roomish at all. No. It was all manly. Completely manly. In…

As these things go, screaming in the high end of falsetto while babbling incoherently and getting my nose licked by what is possibly the most deadly snake in existence* seems a pretty good place to leave off our narrative. In the writing biz, it’s what we call a cliffhanger. So called because, back in the days when entertainment was serial, writers would often get to a point where the protagonist…

Examining The Snake . . . And Other Stupidities

There aren’t many things that shock me any more. I reared three sons while my wife was away working hard, stamping out diseases and delivering babies. Being boys, they got into things that are best left undiscussed. Even by people like us who make a habit of talking about things no one else will even contemplate. Trust me. You do not want to hear the possum story. I mean, once we get to the bit…

No one ever sets out to take a bad selfie.* Which isn’t to say that there are not a metaphorical crap ton of bad selfies clogging the tubes of the Internutz out there. Because there most certainly are. A lot. Of bad — really bad — selfies. Think about that a minute. People don’t want to look bad. They will take a bad selfie, though. Usually it’s not because they mean to take a bad selfie, only…

There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don’t.

No, wait. True, but not the bifurcation for which I was searching.

There are two ways to approach a blank computer screen, staring at you, demanding to be filled with information, riveting information, information that will change the lives of readers and the destiny of nations…

All Greek To Me

Η ανεξέταστη ζωή δεν αξίζει να ζει. – Σωκράτης

The unexamined life is not worth living. – Socrates

The above quote is attributed, as you can probably guess, to the philosopher Socrates. To me, the idea behind his words is that we should all look deeply into our lives and try to determine if we are doing that which makes our lives better. Are we enriching our lives?

Are we living? Are we existing?

Examine Yourself In The Mirror

I’m almost positive I meant that whole getting used to being naked in public thing as a metaphor, but. . . Oh, well. Guess I’ll know better next time. Or at least remember what I was talking about from one post to the next. So. Where were we? Ah, right. Getting Naked In Public I don’t mean that I actually want you to get naked in public. (Ah-HA! It was a metaphor. I knew it.) What I meant was…