I Don’t Want to Sink

A while back I realized I needed to sort some things out and started seeing a therapist about once a month. Last week I was early for my appointment so I sat in my car and enjoyed a blueberry scone with a cup of coffee. As I was listening to the radio a loud scraping...

I Hurt Myself Today

When I got home from work yesterday the newest addition to my pocketknife collection was waiting in my mailbox. Like a kid on Christmas I slid the new knife out of its packaging and flicked it open. “Nice,” I said, feeling the razor sharp edge. “Very nice.” Then I...

Falling To The Ground

Just before my beloved dog Buster died I found out we had mice. Late in the evening, I was keeping vigil over Buster when I heard a scuttling sound in kitchen. When I looked up a brown mouse shot across the kitchen floor and dove underneath the stove. Just great....

The Coors Light Mystery

When the cable installer rigged up my new television service a few days ago he had to open up the drop ceiling in my basement to install some new wiring. But when he pushed up the ceiling tile a small surprise was waiting for him. Two empty beer cans fell on his head....

I Should Be Better, But I’m Not.

A few weeks ago I got sick of my cable company’s usurious fees, terrible customer service, out of date equipment, degrading internet speed and them being assholes in general. So I canceled, signed up with one of their competitors, and arranged an installation date. I...

Django Unchained

Django used to hang out with my dog “Buster” at the dog park. A very cute pooch. His owner is having trouble paying his vet bills. Any help you can give him would be most appreciated. The GoFundMe link is here, Thank you.

Clean Cups

This morning my daughter climbed into my bed and prodded my shoulder. I was already awake but pretended to sleep, adding an exaggerated snore for emphasis, “Wake up time, Daddy,” Natalie said. “Wake up time.” I snored again and was rewarded with a giggle. Little...

The 11th Hour of the 11th Day of the 11th Month

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.   We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were...

A Little Touch of Harry in the Night

It was Sunday night and my wife and I were having cocktails at Musso and Frank Grill on Hollywood Boulevard. Using the mirror behind the bar, I watched an older man putting the moves on a twentyish platinum blonde in a tight red dress who reminded me of Jean Harlow....

Like Summer Grass

“So, what do you do?” the well-heeled man asked me. I was in the middle of munching on a canapé so I held up a finger and continued masticating. As I did so I remembered that, in France, it’s considered rude to ask people what they did for a living. But we weren’t in...