I intend to write a chapter of fiction in my sixth novel, which does not, of yet, have a title. This is typical of the way I sing scales in advance of a writing chorus. Only Americans would spend more than two years narrowing down a gigantic field of presidential candidates to the two …
Tag: Donald Trump
A Trucker, a Slugger, and a Bloodsucker
Times are changing. The Republicans are acting like the Democrats. The Democrats are having a fine old time watching. Next week, I expect, the Democrats will act, in response, like Republicans used to. And I'll be glad that all I've got to do is vote. I didn't watch much of the GOP -- when I …
That Melania Trump Has a Way with Words
The Boston Red Sox were off Monday night. They're playing the San Francisco Giants at Fenway Park tonight. Although there were a couple movies in which I had some interest, I idly watched the Republican National Convention out of perverse fascination. It was similar to the reason why, a week earlier, I inexplicably watched an …
She Said, ‘Mama, Got a Note Here from the Harper Valley PTA’
Tuesday was another walking contradiction, particularly since I didn't do much walking. I'd been paying attention to really important matters on Monday -- a rained-out stock car race about which the Bleacher Report pays me to write, college baseball regionals, general early-week angst -- and the grass needed cutting, and I'd spent Tuesday morning writing about …
Continue reading She Said, ‘Mama, Got a Note Here from the Harper Valley PTA’
The Great Known
Mickey got up, drank some coffee, fixed breakfast, and rejoiced in the honor of being the last person on earth whose mother had the good sense to name her son Mickey, and he thought about the glory of Mickey Mantle, Mickey Stanley, Mickey Spillane, and Mickey Montgomery. Okay, the last one he made up. Then …
High Above the World Where No One Cares
Marvin staggered out of bed, stopped off for a leak, and advanced boldly into the kitchen in search of a swallow of water to combat the cotton mouth. Gaining coherence and mental acuity, he applied the fundamentals of coffee making to his machine and retreated because nature was beginning to call, and, sometimes, in …
Tuesday Morning Consciousness Stream
I've had much to think of, and yet I've learned gradually that I'm living in a world that seldom thinks. It tweets. It texts. It posts. It links. It sinks. But it seldom thinks. It's turnt af. Nowumsayin? Saturday was unexpected. I was pecking away at something at least as nonsensical as this when …
Nightrider's Lament 