I should be dead. No kidding, I should be dead. For six years I consumed a lethal cocktail muddled together on a daily basis. My starters included: my all-star pitcher, the stimulant dextro-amphetamine aka Adderall; my opioid triple play Oxycodone, Hydrocodone, and Fentanyl; at clean-up, slugger benzodiazepine aka Clonazepam; and my DH, cyclobenzaprine aka Flexeril. it wasn't that … Continue reading Adderall, Oxycodone, Fentanyl, Hydrocodone, Clonazepam and Flexeril
Early last week a tip-toeing summer sun behaved like a shy new third grader taking his seat quietly in a room full of strangers. Suddenly a bumblebee tumbled past my nose and into the kitchen. Quite surprised, I stepped through the doorway only to hear the familiar thud-thud-thudding of an insect against a window, … Continue reading The Troubling Bumbling Bumblebee
PLEASE NOTE: BnB has 190 posts. I doubt you're going to rummage around in the basement of my blog, so I've decided to bring a handful of posts forward and mention why these are some of my favorites. Like: My Penned Invention of the Pen Invention (because I had fun writing it); or, The Start starring Wile … Continue reading I Reckon, It Was My Reckoning
QUESTION: Is the U.S. Military's use of drones equivalent to terorrist groups use of suicide bombers? (understanding that drones are unmanned while suicide bombers are manned).
Once I assumed the role of cook a couple of years ago, I planned my menu so that every other day I’d prepare a new meal. The only cookbook I owned was a 1960’s copy of Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. This cookbook was my mother’s, and if you saw it, you’d think Betty Crocker herself passed it […]
I was born a foot this side of the tracks, I joke. My mother had an eighth-grade education. She sat with 30 other kids in a one-room schoolhouse in some no-name farm town in northern Wisconsin. My father achieved a high school education and allegedly a scholarship to Purdue which he forfeited for one hour … Continue reading Going Back pt. 1
Sometimes, when writers gather and discuss their art form, they inevitably start talking about how writing is the lonely art. But I sit there wondering, "Lonely? Don't you hear all the voices from all the people talking about how they like or dislike your work? Writing's not lonely! It's a dialogue, a conversation."