I’m not a flag-waving patriot. I don’t drink Budweiser. When I recite the Pledge of Allegiance, I edit it to more closely match my beliefs. I don’t even watch football. For a fifty-something guy born and bred in America, I don’t seem very American. On July 3, Susan and I walked out for coffee. This … Continue reading Butts
I feel like a sausage. Like fatty meat squeezed into a sheath, praying the sides don’t split open. But of course they won't. This is intended. This is supposed to look good. Susan and I are counter-culture. By that I mean we ignore societal norms. Not in a contrived “if it’s popular, I won’t do … Continue reading Pulling.Them.Off.
I’m easily distracted. Eight months ago, I embarked on a journey, a quest if you will, to become a Babywater. Right, I know that sounds stupid. It’s the phonic rendition of an acronym I made up—BABWTR. At the time, I thought it sounded tough and edgy. Reminiscent of Jason Bourne’s Treadstone. No, I don’t see … Continue reading In Search of: Coach!
The Fairyland Loop. A sickly-sweet name for a trail; evoking images of a four-year-old girl skipping down a grassy path in her ballerina outfit. One week into my family vacation, my legs were itching for punishment—my heart and lungs had taken plenty of abuse, but only due to the elevation. Susan, my two kids, and … Continue reading Fairyland FKT