The first Texan I ever met was my mother. Mom grew up in Corpus Christi, married young and then fled the state. In the next 20 years, she and my Dad—a Californian—returned three times to visit her parents. Two of… Continue Reading
To head forward, sometimes you’ve got to go back. On the road at last. Destination Charleston, South Carolina by way of Houston, New Orleans and Tallahassee. Motoring towards the land of Dixie. I expect to travel 3,200 miles to get… Continue Reading
If you want to be somebody else, If you’re tired of fighting battles with yourself If you want to be somebody else Change your mind “Change Your Mind” Sister Hazel I’ve just given up a long-held prejudice. For years, when… Continue Reading
Twice a year, I do something I loathe more than serving jury duty or sitting in the dentist’s chair. I prepare my students’ grades. Evaluations are essential for helping students improve. No problem there, but grades are more—and less—than that.… Continue Reading
After the final no there comes a yes And on that yes the future world depends. Wallace Stephens A Well Dressed Man With A Beard I faced the camera, and the smiling woman hovering next to it cued me. “So,”… Continue Reading
My present and future son-in-laws are wearing high heels this weekend. They’ll be “Walking A Mile In Her Shoes” Saturday, 9 am, at the Downtown Promenade to help fight domestic violence and raise funds for One Safe Place. This is… Continue Reading
I’d rather eat a sesame-seed bagel than Ben and Jerrys. Or a steak. I’m a starch-a-holic. For nearly a decade, when I was running marathons, I ate nothing but bread—French bread, buttermilk bread, oatmeal, multi-grain, sprouted. You name it, and… Continue Reading
I lugged two boxes to my classroom, my arms aching. Once there, I spread out scores of books on the table in the front of the room. “Take one or two,” I said. “There’s some good stuff here.” My… Continue Reading
Once a year, in April, my house tries to kill me. That’s when I go to the rooftop to prance around, attempting to revive my aging swamp cooler. Sure, I’m up there in the fall, too. But it’s no problem… Continue Reading
The phone rings, and it’s my son, Joe, calling from the Naval Training Center. He’s got good news. His hard work and solid test scores have moved him up the food chain a bit and earned him additional privileges. We… Continue Reading
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