The Preacher Calls on Sunday

My dad calls, because we have not spoken since Christmas.  He asks what I’m doing and I tell him and I hear the surprised hesitation in his voice.  But he doesn’t ask and I appreciate that he doesn’t.  He tells me about his day, about climbing back up into the pulpit to fill in for [...]

Ken Whitehouse Needs Some Help

Mary Mancini, who has a lovely and poetic name, interviewed Enoch Fuzz and StephenFotopulos today.  And Ken Whitehouse.
You could write a book or a poem with words like “Mary Mancini,” “Enoch Fuzz” and “Stephen Fotopulos” in it.
But “Ken Whitehouse”?
No.  Clearly, the man needs a nickname or a better first name.  “William Whitehouse?”  “Ken ‘The Donut [...]

In Which I Complain

That the longer I sit here, the more sore I become.  My back hurts.  My neck hurts.  My arm hurts.  My thumb hurts and I didn’t even hurt my thumb in the fall.  I’m convinced it’s just hurting because it doesn’t want to be left out of the aching.
And what will I do with my [...]

An Open Letter to Pith in the Wind

Dear Pith,
I love your new design so much that I wrote this little poem about it.
Oh Pith, I delight in your new design
Look, it’s so crisp and clean and so refined
It’s the best thing on these intertubes
But Hargrove’s still not getting near my boobs.
That’s right, Pith, I love your new design so much I whipped [...]

After Last Night’s Dinner

The cat is still traumatized.  The dining room chair is in pieces on the floor and I am riddled with sore spots.  The chair thing isn’t that interesting, just at one moment I was at eye-level with the people at the table and the next minute I was at eye-level with the dog and I [...]