Saving Face

“When you jump for joy, beware that no one moves the ground from beneath your feet.”  Lec ********** There’s a lot of need for face saving in these times. Impeachment hearings may have been the best thing that’s happened in America lately. Such gushing rubbish is entertaining the wrong people and making the right ones …

Ashes of Love

I’m sitting in the Snip and Clip Hair Emporium, a fancy name for a ‘beauty parlor.’ I’m waiting for my turn for a haircut. It’s weird, sitting in the midst of women who can both talk and hear at the same time. Times have changed. Everything is unisex now. Old stigmas are gone. Men are …

The Kiss

It begins harmlessly enough, the first kiss. Who really knows what to expect? Only that it won’t be the last. ********** They were young, the night was dark, the Senior prom was over. They sat in his car in the moonlit parking lot behind the school auditorium while the crowd thinned out. Intensity filled the …

Resting on our Laurels

The older I get, the better I was.”  Anonymously inspired. ********** Laurels…we’ve got plenty of ‘em. They cling to our walls and clutter our closets. Our photo albums bulge with them. Metals and badges occupy vases, shelves and cabinets. Storage units overflow with yesterday’s cast offs. Out of sight, out of mind. Why do we …

Batteries

What’s in a man’s pocket? Does anybody really want to know? ********** Men walk around with their hands shoved in their front pockets all the time like they’re trying to hide something. Or maybe they just simply don’t know what to do with their hands. Pockets are as good a place as any to stash …

The Blemish

     Blemish: n. A flaw, fault, stain or imperfection. Nothing’s perfect. Not even us. ********** I found a blemish last Friday morning. It had desecrated my favorite pink linen shirt. I’m sitting on the porch having coffee. It’s early. The morning’s quiet. Communion with birds and cicadas is a good beginning. I look down and …

Lonesome, On’ry and Mean

Thanks, Waylon, you pretty much nailed how we feel about the state of things in general, and Dog Days in particular. ********** Last Wednesday passing through the island guard gate the temperature read 100. The heat index hovered at 109. The ‘guards’ moved like zombies in a humidity-induced stupor. I don’t know where the day …