Evermore, Baltimore
I have always wanted to see the Chesapeake. My whole life, actually.
It all started because my dad was a reader. He read books obsessively. You’d see him sitting in his chair, poking through some thick volume.
Citizen Writers Fighting Censorship by Helping Americans Understand Issues Affecting the Republic.
I have always wanted to see the Chesapeake. My whole life, actually.
It all started because my dad was a reader. He read books obsessively. You’d see him sitting in his chair, poking through some thick volume.
The young woman sits in my truck passenger seat. She is 19. Her hair is red. Scottish red. Luminously red. People always comment on her hair first.
I have here a letter from 19-year-old Erin, who lives in Bristol, Virginia.
“Dear Sean,” she begins, “I want to be happy, but I’m not…
“My family is stressing me out, big-time. Especially my mom.
My sister and I sit cross-legged on the front porch, playing cards. I am losing. Not that this matters.
We are really into the game right now, slapping cards on the porch floor.
Once upon a time there were three little ants. The ants had an unusual home. They lived atop an elephant. Long ago the ants’ mother had reasoned that an elephant would be a wise place to lay eggs to keep them from danger.
We still have work to protect our children from radical liberals. Latest battle: insuring they are not screwed up for life by “therapy.”
This series is about the Birth Control Pill and its lasting effect on societies. Today: Part 1; The Birth Control Pill – What It Is and How It Works
This is my fourth week with a flip phone. My “unintelligent” cellular phone is manufactured by Nokia, and the phone’s primary selling feature is that it sucks.
Columbus, Georgia. I was eating at a barbecue joint not far from the state line. My cousin, John, insisted that this joint serves the best barbecue in the state of Georgia. He made me promise to try it.
I’ve no interest in uber-intrusiveness. But I do have a strong interest in preserving civilization — and in restoring it in the first place.
So the idea was: After eight weeks of rigorous marriage training, couples would receive an official certificate, trimmed in gold, with their names on it. And this certificate would prove to the world, without a doubt, that couples were spiritually, and emotionally prepared to take the multiple choice exam in the back of the book.
Bryan was walking the Arkansas highway shoulder with only the moon to guide him. Backpack slung over his shoulder. Blisteringly cold.
In the grand tradition of uniquely stupid American ideas, the 1990s gifted us a real gem: “If you’re smart, you go to college. If you’re not, well… enjoy your life as blue-collar swine.”
I shouldn’t be braiding hair. But there I was. Giving it my best shot. We were in a hotel lobby. The 19-year-old sat with her back facing me. Her violent red hair in my hands.
You never know how truly short life is until a 19-year-old girl, who is preceptive and sweet, and of exceptional intellect, a girl who made the university president’s list, stares at you sincerely, with warmth in her eyes, and with all her heart, calls you an “old person.”
Pavel Trofimovich Morozov (Па́вел Трофи́мович Моро́зов) was a supposed hero of the Soviet Union: In 1932, at the age of 13, Morozov reported his father to the political police (GPU). Supposedly, Morozov’s father, Trofim, the chairman of the Gerasimovka Village Soviet, had been “forging documents and selling them to the bandits and enemies of the …
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.
I remember the day we got married. I was a bundle of nerves. I didn’t know what to do with myself. So I just drove around town in my car.