Lord Have Mercy
Have mercy on Minneapolis. On Minnesota. On our country. Have mercy on those of us who are angry, God. Mercy on those of us who weep. Mercy on those who mourn.
Sean Dietrich
O Say Can You See
I remember before the game, things got very quiet. All 30-odd thousand people rose. The throngs of stadium chairs creaking sounded like the world was splitting.
My Friend “Mo”
Nothing beautiful has ever landed on me before, unless you count the way local pigeons have sometimes used me for target practice.
Life and All Its Cracker Barrels
I have a story about bad things. The story is about an old man. He lived during in the Great Depression. He was a very poor farmer. His home was a ramshackle shotgun house. He drove a rusted truck that predated the Punic Wars.
Jonathan Livingston Birdy
Two railway track maintainers stood at a distance watching her. Their neon vests, reflecting in the early morning light. Their hard hats pushed upward on their heads. They weren’t sure what to do with the bird.
Goodbye, Man of Steel
I’ve been a Superman fan since I was old enough to fill up a diaper. I used to attend school wearing Superman pajamas beneath my civilian clothes, posing as a mild-mannered first-grader. My mother made me stop this in college.
The Dog In My Lap
The little dog beside me is curled into a ball, huddled against me. We are smooshed as closely as we can be without being one person.
Waiting for Takeoff
We were sitting on a plane. Awaiting takeoff. I am convinced that if you live wrongly, if you treat your fellow man poorly, if you are selfish, if you are not a good person, you will die and wake up in Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.
No Offense, Sean, But…
“Dear Sean, your column yesterday about embracing my inner child and childhood was inaccurate. I’m 67 with more life experience than you… And my childhood wasn’t idyllic like yours obviously was…
The Kid in You
Dive deep into your brain and locate your mental elementary-school yearbook. Flip through the pages. Find that cute black-and-white photo of yourself with that gap-toothed smile and enormous ears.
“I’m Disappointed in You, Sean”
“Dear Sean, yesterday’s column disappointed me. You cannot be a true believer and believe in ghosts at the same time. God simply doesn’t work that way.
The Ghosts of Gettysburg
Gettysburg is a place of ghosts. That’s what they say. This town is known to historians and ghost hunters as the promised land for paranormal activity. There’s the phantom regiment, sometimes heard marching through the streets. There’s the specter of a little girl at the Tillie Pierce House, often heard playing in the other room, …
Why I Love Elderly People
Bobby and I played music before a theater of people at the Vista Retirement Community in Wyckoff, New Jersey. The Vista is a giant cruise ship on land, minus the lifeboats, slot machines, and go-go dancers.
Country Come to Town
We arrived in New Jersey at 5:18 p.m. The first actual New Jerseyan I met was the lady gas-station cashier.
“Will this be oh-WALL?” she asked, ringing up my coffee.
“Ma’am?” I said.
See Rock City Barns
Interstate 59 shot past our windows like a streak of pigeon excrement on a commercial airline windshield. We crossed into Tennessee, heading northward to New Jersey. The radio played Jerry Reed. And I was busy counting barns.
Have Banjo, Will Travel
Late morning. Bobby and I packed the car for the Great American Road Trip. I tossed my fiddle into the backseat. Bobby placed his banjo in the trunk. I ate my third Larabar.
This Was Not Written by AI
Humanoid robots. Automated cars. Augmented reality smart-glasses. Smart dishwashers. Robotic surgeons. And what about the weird AI images all over my newsfeed? Where are these freaky AI pictures coming from?
Going Through Old Photos
I was a fat baby. People were concerned about me as a newborn. “Have you seen Sue’s baby?” people would say. Then they would inflate their cheeks and do an imitation of the Pillsbury spokesperson.
The Farmer’s Daughter
She was 9. And obsessed with animals. How could she not be? She was the daughter of a farmer, animals were life. She especially loved the baby animals. They were so fuzzy, so adorable, she simply could not put them down. She was always rolling in the dirt with various baby pigs, or tiny goats, …
Our Father, Which Art in Heaven
Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Even though this name has been so misused, misapplied, and misappropriated throughout history.