Battery Epiphany – an ironic tale

Battery Epiphany – an ironic tale

f you had been a guest in my home this past week, you and I would have been driven out of bed at 3 a.m. one morning by the incessant, irritating chirping of a dying smoke alarm detector, high on the kitchen wall: eeenk . . . . eeenk . . . . eeenk. . . eeenk . . .eeenk . . . . AAARGH, DAMN!

Pagoto

Pagoto

What do you want to be when you grow up? If you had asked me that question in the summer of my twelfth year, I would have readily answered: The driver of an ice cream truck. . .

Mutton Busting

Mutton Busting

Simply said, mutton busting is an American rodeo event involving sheep and young children. Or more precisely – a full grown female sheep – and a kid between 7 and 9 years of age who weighs less than 65 pounds. The goal for the kid is to stay aboard the sheep for 8 seconds and get points from judges for style and technique. . .

Family

Family

Early on a cold, rainy, dreary Sunday morning, a man sits in a chair in the deep darkness of a small side chapel off the main sanctuary of the church of the old Monastery of Gonia. . .

Squirmy

Squirmy

. . .The whole Universe is still expanding, so say the astronomers. The landmass under my feet is moving west at the rate of half an inch a year. The sea floor is still spreading. Nothing is holding still – every atom in existence is whirling away in relentless motion.