The Woman Outside the Store
“My daughter’s inside shopping,” the old woman tells me. “You’d better not talk to me. Whenever my daughter sees me talking to strangers, she always says ‘Mama, quit bothering the man!’”
Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
“My daughter’s inside shopping,” the old woman tells me. “You’d better not talk to me. Whenever my daughter sees me talking to strangers, she always says ‘Mama, quit bothering the man!’”
New research reports that, thanks to smartphones, kids are smarter today than their ancestors ever were. “Technology,” the article said, “is expanding the American IQ.”
In light of all the negative headlines, civil unrest, and the international political upheavals, I know many of you are anxious to know what I did for National Kiss a Ginger Day. Or maybe you missed this particular holiday.
When you’re having a bad day, think of her. She was born in Agawam, Massachusetts. One year after the Civil War. The daughter of Irish immigrants.
I see her on the street. She is a hospice nurse. I know this because she is standing directly beside her company SUV, which is covered in vinyl logos, parked outside an older house. She is mid-40s, wearing scrubs. And crying. Face-in-her-hands crying.
The annual World Happiness Report recently ranked the happiest countries in the world. The U.S. dropped to number 24, its lowest position in the report’s history.
Help us to love one another. Help us to find beauty in each fellow human being. Beauty within each soul who crosses our path today. Teach us to find beauty in our enemies.
The patrons are mostly young. It’s a bar. So people are happy. They’re doing what happy people from their generation do. They take selfies for no apparent reason. They snap photos of their food when it arrives. They rapidly thumb away on their screens, largely ignoring the people in their party.
The 20-year-old girl is sleeping when we enter her hospital room. But her mom tells us to come in anyway. I’m carrying my fiddle case. My friend Bobby is carrying his banjo.
The old timers in my childhood used a word I never understood. The word was “Providence.” The old timers couldn’t give me an exact definition of this word. Probably because it had more than two syllables.
There were 26 of them, altogether. High-school kids. Not one cellphone among them. Neither were there TVs, airpods, gaming devices, or tablets. No tech at all.
It was a party.
In the elevator is a little boy and his mother. They are both carrying overnight bags. Mom looks like she hasn’t slept in eight years. The boy looks worried. He’s so serious. “Mom?” the boy asks. “Do you think Caleb’s surgery worked?”
What the heck is going on? Why aren’t people dating, or getting married? What’s to blame? I can’t answer that, I’m too busy scrolling my phone right now.
The televised tumult of a 90,278-person crowd inside Los Angeles County’s Rose Bowl Stadium was blaring through the feeble Samsung speakers. God wanted Alabama to win. That much we knew.
Her name is Marigold. And while I’m sad the last face she ever saw was his. I’m thrilled the first face her little eyes will ever see will be God’s.
A lot has changed in a year. The entire world has changed. Many will tell you that 2025 has been full of bad stuff—the media, for example.
Carole’s mother was young. Twenty-two years old. She was married and pregnant with her second child. The year was 1945.
The War was freshly over. The Depression was still a recent memory. Carole’s mother wanted to buy her husband a gift for his birthday. He was turning 25.
I receive a lot of questions. They come in the form of emails, private messages, subpoenas, etc. I cannot answer them all, but I am able to answer a few.
Mama asks if I’m having a good birthday. I nod. But I don’t mean it. I’m quiet. I’m always quiet. Ever since my father died several years ago, I just stay quiet. I don’t know why. Not much to say, I guess.
Visiting an Appalachian Walmart at 8 o’clock in the evening is unlike any other experience. Rural Appalachian dwellers are unique unto themselves. Cautious of outsiders. Not always friendly. They have trust issues.