These Boots Were Made for Texting
How I ended up walking into a sliding glass door in a supermarket is pretty simple. I got a text from my wife. I looked at my phone to read the message and, WHAM! Goodbye nasal cartilage.
Americana
Advice For Young Raccoons
Charlotte is a student at West Virginia University. The 19-year-old emailed me asking for relationship advice concerning her ex-boyfriend, John, who once hurt her very badly. Tragically, I don’t give advice. But I can tell you a story, Charlotte.
Eating Chinese Food With Jamie
My wife and I are eating at a Chinese restaurant. We’ve been driving for hours through South Carolina. We pulled over to refuel and address pressing bladder issues. And we found this place.
Sweet Carolina
South Carolina. The distant backroads. Deep forest. Lots of Spanish moss. I am stuck behind an asthmatic pickup.
What Happens in Diners, Stays in Diners
Before the boy sat a massive meal. Bacon. Eggs. Huge glass of chocolate milk. Stack of pancakes bigger than a midsize SUV.
Your Face Will Get Stuck Like That!
My mother always told me to smile. Especially when I didn’t want to. She often told me to smile when I was sad, when trying on school clothes, or whenever I was forced to eat beef liver at gunpoint.
The Eternal Small Town
A small town. The kind of beautiful American hamlet where all that’s missing is the Norman Rockwell signature. There was a party happening on Main Street. Lots of people.
A Love Manifesto
I love marshmallows. I love Basset hounds. I love the smell of fresh-cut grass. I love sunlight. And I love the way a baby feels in your arms, all squishy and warm.
Footprints in the Sand
I had a dream. I was walking on the beach with God. We were the only two on the shore. God was very tall.
The first thing that struck me was that God was nothing like I thought he’d be.
The Radio Star
The school cafeteria. The boys were all sitting together, doing what teenage boys do. Horsing around, talking about girls, probably trying to make milk spew from each other’s nostrils.
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.
Alaska: The Work of God’s Hands
A journey through Alaska’s rivers, glaciers, and skies is a living reminder that the God who shaped such majesty also cares deeply for us.
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.
Defying Mr. Softee
The award came with a certificate and two presidential-type emblems, one that could be sewed on to a dungaree jacket that was popular at the time and the other, a sticker. It was quite the booty for a Catholic grade school kid who yearly passed the Presidential Physical Fitness test a half century ago.
My War Against Communism: Was it all for Naught?
When I was in the U.S. Army in the 1960s, one of the most persistent exhortations from my superiors was: “The only good communist is a dead communist.”
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.