When I was in sixth grade, my teacher was frustrated out of her mind.  No matter where she moved me in the class, I chatted up my neighbor.  I remember each new class day, in an attempt to reign me in, Mrs. Hill shifted me to a different seat, hoping that I would get the hint and button the lip.  But I found common ground with the each neighbor in turn.  I made new friends. Silence, to me, does … [Read more...]

I’m taking my emotionally drained self to bed.  This shooting has hollowed me out.  Too much empathy and I cried earlier.  Couple glasses of wine and the nightly news and it was a rain fest.  I really lost it. Little innocent children, all 20 of them dead. Walker’s passions are her juice, her ice cream, her play dates.   She’s so bright but emotionally she’s 9.   Bocce in the front yard.  Can … [Read more...]

At Walker’s school, volunteering is mandatory—you have to put in a certain amount of hours per year.  It’s still very minimal, especially compared to past co-op preschools where it was like having a second full time job.  I do more hours because Walker’s face lights up when I walk in her classroom and I get about 5 hugs per 10 minutes, and the other girls make me feel like a rock star and that’s … [Read more...]

My soapbox is out.  This is a public service announcement. Some people stub a toe.  Some trip and break an arm.  Some, like my client, tackle a thief caught red-handed in his office at GA Tech, stealing computers and other expensive office equipment.  Like a super hero, Clark (as in Kent) threw himself at the perp-bastard.  The story goes that they tussled and the end result was that my client … [Read more...]

I was at the lake in remote Alabama this weekend, like I often am.  And when you have things done at the lake, you often call on fellas that sport camouflage hats and pants, beards and deadpan expressions, men that arrive in pick ‘em up trucks, y’all.  With gun racks.  You might as well not be a man in Alabama without the gun rack. And I bonded with the son of the seawall man.  He was cute and … [Read more...]

Walter the cat is. He really is. And I don’t mean that Walter cross dresses because that’s just silly. He’s more of a transpecies rather than transgendered. Although if he sashayed by in a dress, I wouldn’t be that shocked. He’s an anything-is-possible kind of puss. He has a sardonic wit with an appreciation for electric adventure, even if he prefers khakis and Brooks Brothers shirts. … [Read more...]