Most Mondays were the same. Olin Hampden was accustomed to it. Minor crises took up as much time as major ones. The wife of the president of Hortense National Bank had a fender bender; she had backed her Escalade into the back of a Nissan that was backing out of a space behind her at …
Tag: writing
Observations of My Humdrum Day
I had a productive day. The majority was busy and business, though I finished a short story I'm not going to post on my web site because it's unconventional and catered to the requirements of a contest. I haven't entered it yet because I have to shave about 150 words in order to make it …
Nothing Left to Lose
On Saturday morning, I was riding around and around my front yard on a mower, listening to Charlie Robison’s “Desperate Times.” That’s where this dark tale started. Joe Scharmann had applied for dozens of jobs. Three had deigned to invite him for interviews. Those whose job it was to conduct the interviews knew better than …
A Selfie Portrait
This morning I started fooling around with this laptop -- okay, this is a tablet linked to a keyboard -- and I started tinkering with the Fresh Paint app that came with it. As you may know, sometime in 2014, I started drawing simple sketches to illustrated my short stories here and the blogs at …
The Writing Will Find You
Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be writers. If it’s in them, it will come out, but there’s no reason to encourage it. Don’t recommend it, for God’s sake. Personally, I only think of writing once a day. Every day. All day long. I usually watch TV and read at night. Once I …
A Different Kind of Racing Book
Motorsports and American Culture: From Demolition Derbies to NASCAR, Edited Mark D. Howell and John D. Miller (Lanham, Maryland: Rowman & Littlefield) I’d never heard of this book until a copy of it was given me by my friend John Edwin Mason, who, in addition to teaching African history and the history of photography at …
My Guy Dave
I’m sentimental at times. In 1983, when my baseball hero, Carl Yastrzemski, said farewell to Boston and trotted around the perimeter of the Fenway Park field shaking hands, I cried when I watched the video. I never felt more stupid. It was a highlights video of Yaz’s career, and I didn’t expect to cry. Watching …
One of My Daddy’s Days
This was a Daddy Day, which is not to say I am one. It is a subset of what my late father called “one of them Dutton deals.” To me, a Daddy’s Day is one in which very little gets done. My father, who died nearly 22 years ago, could waste a day as …
Them Ain’t Got No Coffee Blues
Supposedly drugs do not really make a person creative. They merely make him think he is creative. On the other hand, supposedly, image is reality. I don’t feel creative this morning. I feel listless. I feel dull. I need drugs. The drug is caffeine. I didn’t realize I was addicted to coffee until the apparatus …
The Smart Kid
This is sort of a “Man Bites Dog” story, or, perhaps, “Girl Bites God.” Macy McMahon awakened before the alarm went off, as per the usual. She turned it off, got up, rubbed her eyes, gathered her wits, and strode down the hall, where she knocked on the door and yelled, “Rise and shine!” …
Nightrider's Lament 