Bring on the Sunshine
Gray weather feels a lot like taking a field trip to Hell. I don’t like overcast days. Whenever the sky gets like this, I sit by a windowsill and entertain the idea of composing Russian poetry.
Sean Dietrich
Dearest Lynn
Dear Lynn,
It’s weird. Weird knowing that you won’t be reading this today. You always read my stuff. It’s how we met. Which only raises questions about your taste in literature.
The Illustrious Marigold
My granddaddy said you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat a dog. Someone who treats a dog badly, is a bad person. A person who treats a dog with regard and deference is a good egg.
The Story of a Simple Woman
She works hard. Too hard. And when she’s not cooking in the kitchen of the medical rehab, delivering trays to patients, she’s a full-time single mother.
Birmingham: My Home Sweet Home
It was an average weeknight in Birmingham when I stood atop the Vulcan statue. Snow on the ground. I was looking at the city below, standing beneath Vulcan’s massive butt cheeks.
The Feel of a Real Newspaper
Newspapers have a smell. If you’re lucky enough to find a physical newspaper in our digital world, you’ll notice the smell first. Fresh newsprint paper. SoySeal ink. Still warm. It’s a unique scent.
A Birmingham Angel
Birmingham. I met the old woman for coffee. She was small and slight, with a mane of white. She spoke with a thick Latin accent.
“I have a story for you,” she said.
Meet Your Local Librarian
The New York Times recently published an article stating that librarians are facing a “crisis of violence and abuse.” So I just thought you’d like to meet your local librarian.
My New Year’s Resolution
It’s the New Year and, judging by people’s resolutions, they think they’re supposed to be doing all sorts of impressive things like losing weight, saving more money, training for marathons, etc.
Angels in the Outfield
Someone emailed me and said I was an idiot. Which is true, but not for the reasons they cited.
The Time I Made a Graduation Speech
It’s weird. Standing on this stage. In this arena. I’m looking at a thousand faces. Many of them are about to be college graduates. And they’re all looking back at me so hopefully, so full of wonder, so wide-eyed and eager, as if to say, “I hope this idiot’s speech isn’t too long.”
A New Year with a Blind Dog
I brought in the new year with a blind dog. She was seated beside me, wagging her butt. I think she could feel the energy in the air.
A Funeral Runs Through It
The casket was rolled in. The piano played funeral hymns. And there I was, behind a pulpit, poised before a congregation that was standing-room only.
The Christmas Breaks of Boyhood
Things in America have changed since I was a boy. We were feral children during Christmas breaks. We were dangerous. We lived without helmets. We had BB guns. We ate saturated fat. And we were never, ever inside.
Christmas with Becca
Christmas supper. The little girl beside me ate ferociously as though she had not eaten in 13 years when in fact she had already eaten two breakfasts, one Christmas lunch, half a bag of tortilla chips, a quarter of a cheese log, and various holiday snacks which all featured onion dip as a main ingredient.
Christmas Souls
The young woman emailed me her story. She said she was lonely. She was 32 and single. Her therapist said she was depressed. He suggested medication. Then, her therapist asked whether she had plans for Christmas.
Merry Christmas
Thank you. That is the purpose of this column. I want to say “thanks.” I don’t know you, but I believe in the good you do.
Let it Snow, Let it Snow
Christmas Eve. Southeastern Kansas. The middle of nowhere. Kansas is one of those places that gets a bad rap. People speak of Kansas like it’s Death Valley, or the hindparts of Mars.