The Dog Who Could Fly
Our dog, correction, the dog belonging to the Little Black Dress, is having an identity crisis.
Some of the more enlightened readers might suggest some well-renown dog shrink or whisperer or something to help process/analyze the deep-routed core symptoms of said activity. Finding her true inner karma through psychoanalysis while sipping Chai tea in a golden bowl … or something.
Others, like my father-in-law, a 50-year veterinarian, would point out it’s a friggin dog. The only communication you need with said dog are words like, “sit,” “stay,” “fetch,” and “get off the bed” or something.
In any event, something must be done. Read more…
The Return Of Kiki
Kiki dropped by last night.
That’s not her real name, that would be Courtney. But the eldest Son of Thunder could never pronounce that, so Kiki she became. Little did we know the hidden talents Kiki possessed, nor the impact she would have on our lives.
We had not seen her for more than eight years, but when she popped in, well, it just seemed like old times.
We always reminded the Son of Thunder we got him the prettiest girl in town.
Kiki was the babysitter and guardian of the eldest and later middle Sons of Thunder. Read more…
Bombing Will Commence In Three, Two …
I usually don’t trifle with international affairs here, but this issue is close to my heart.
Iran is starting to load fuel into a nuclear reactor. The simple question is picking the date Israel will nuke said plant into oblivion.
When I was a journalist, I used to cover the nuclear material production facilities here in the U.S., so I know a little about the subject.
This is so bad on so many levels that clichés escape me. The only saving grace in all this is Iran, along with North Korea, are at least level-headed enough to keep all us warmonger-types in line.
Like if we get out of line, they’ll just nuke us for peace’s sake. So we got that going for us.
Israel has already issued its “totally unacceptable” statement. In the South, that translate to “that dog won’t hunt.” Elsewhere, it translate into “we are going to blow you and your reactor up.” Read more…
To The Youngest Son Of Thunder On His Day
Dear Master Shifu:
At least that’s what we call you most of the time, especially when you’re doing some type of Kung Fu stuff on your older brothers. But enough of that.
Today is your day. You are now seven and in First Grade. Your life is before you because this is when it really starts. You are ready, and you’ve told me that enough so I know too.
As you know, every now and then I write a little fatherly advice column for each of you. And since today is your birthday, it’s your turn.
You, like your brothers, are a gift from God and the Little Black Dress and I are very grateful you are in our lives. We also call you the Sons of Thunder, because, frankly, that’s pretty much what you all are. But even when the house is destroyed as soon as you come home from school, despite The Dress spending six hours cleaning, always know we love you.
Anyway, here’s some things I’ve learned and what to pass on to you: Read more…
Testing A Long-Time Friendship … Quickly
(Update 4:50 p.m. – apparently the LBD is concerned this post does not have enough “fawning” and bowing and thank yous. Edit at the end)
The test itself is relatively simple. Load up the car, the Little Black Dress, the three Sons of Thunder and yours truly. Hit the road.
And then deposit said group at your closest friends’ homes – for a week at a time. Oh yes, 17 days of pure ultimate testing. Amateurs need not apply. To ensure we had some chance of success, the two cats and little rat dog were left at home.
The purpose was two-fold. Giving The Dress and Thunder Sons a chance to see old friends back in Georgia. Allowing me the opportunity for some speaking engagements and book signings for Everyone Needs A Sam.
The (victims) friends: (I will leave out full names to protect, well, everyone). “J” and “S.K.,” their two children (their eldest son is best friends with the youngest Thunder Son (follow?)), two dogs, two cats; second was “E” and “C,” no children, two dogs, three cats.
Just a few observations:
Read more…
When Illegal Immigration Hits The Church
I’ve been on a rather whirlwind tour the last 10 days or so down in Georgia promoting my new book, Everyone Needs A Sam. I’d call it a success. I’ve learned a lot, the Little Black Dress and the Sons of Thunder got play time with friends. A good trip.
Yet I also learned, and saw, one of the most powerful expressions of pure love at an Atlanta church where I spoke about my book and our need for mentors. Seeing what this church was going through almost made me feel in the way. I felt like an interruption, yet despite what this church was facing, they still welcomed me with open arms.
My little book and I felt pretty insignificant. The one saving grace for me was my book is about mentors, and how true mentors stand by you when everyone else has deserted. I saw the most awesome display of that ever at this small church.
You see, one of their members was arrested during a traffic stop. During the investigation, the police found out the member in question was an illegal immigrant. Read more…
Hey, You’re In The Newspaper
When you first hear that, depending on what you’ve been up to, that might cause a wee bit of consternation.
For more than two decades, I was an investigative reporter, editor and publisher. My name was in the newspaper constantly. As a reporter, I had bylined stories – meaning I wrote them – almost every day, some days three or four stories. And as a publisher, my name was always on the editorial page along with other senior staff.
This time things switched. There was a story in my old hometown newspaper with my name all over it – yet I didn’t write it. No, it was not in the police blotter; and no, the rather large photo of me did not include me holding up a sign with a bunch of numbers against a wall showing my height.
Instead, the Newnan Times-Herald did a very nice story on my new book, Everyone Needs A Sam. Read more…
The Best Among ‘Man’s Best Friend’
The Lost Files were weekly columns written back around 2001-2003 while I was running a newspaper in the Midwest. They seem to have disappeared from the Internet, probably after some redesign of the newspaper’s web site. So, from time to time, I’ll report some of my favorites from saved hard copies (that’s paper to you new media types).
I named him Beaumont, although I often called him Beau – but never Bo.
He was a total surprise when he suddenly showed up at my door. I could easily hold him in my hand. He seemed to weigh nothing at all.
It was my junior year in college, and suddenly I had a major responsibility before me. He was of mixed race. Yet over the years I learned that made him unique.
The timing could not have been worse – I had a major Russian history exam the next morning. I called my professor at home and simply said, “my girlfriend just gave me a dog.” Read more…
For Father’s Day, the Little Black Dress and the Sons of Thunder got me a very nice car stereo. One of those that can control satellites and phases of the moon, if you can figure it out. What made it more special was my previous stereo had up and died, leaving me driving around without tunes. The Horror.
Besides a CD player, it has Bluetooth – meaning I can pair it with my iPhone and make hands-free calls. It also has a USB outlet so I can play my music collection from my iPhone over the car stereo system. Sweet. No longer must I rely on radio stations to determine what I listen to.
That is, when it works. Because when I upgraded my iPhone 3GS to the new OS4 software, the car stereo would not play music from the iPhone.
“Reading, reading, reading … iPod error” Every time I plugged the iPhone into the stereo.
But I found a fix, and want to share.
Read more…
When You Do Something Really, Really Dumb Part 2
About three weeks ago I wrote about doing one of those really, really dumb things. The kind of thing that makes talk to yourself, and not in a flattering way.
You can read about it here. But a very quick recap: I put gasoline in the oil reservoir of our waverunner. Then, after finally getting it on a trailer to take to the dealership, one of the trailer tires shredded. Oh, and then one of the boards holding the waverunner broke, which led to the water bike smashing the fender to pieces.
In a nutshell, I had to call a wrecker with a flat-bed. And that was fun, because we had to pull the entire contraption – waverunner, busted trailer, up on the flat-bed.
But the waverunner is back and fortunately, I didn’t blow the engine. Read more…
