Snapshot: Pulaski Square, Savannah, GA

  Spanish moss isn’t really moss. It’s an airborne fungus which seems to cling almost exclusively to the massive, gnarled limbs of live oak trees, like those I tried capturing in the snapshot which serves as this post’s featured image. Advertisements

An Open Letter to My Brother 

  Bro, About the beer can I tossed you: man, I should have made a better throw of it. The minute I saw it go under I felt something in me sink.

Why I Will Not Go on the Boat and What This Means for Writing

We were sitting on our living room floor after dinner on Thursday night last week, my wife and I, when she told me her cousin’s husband had extended me the invitation to go out on a fishing boat with him, his two sons, and my brother-in-law the following week.

On Being Lucky and Trying to Honor It

This was yesterday. We were driving south. When we got through Charleston, West Virginia, we saw a bloated, high river, roads under water. The rock walls along the highway glistened as they bled runoff rain water. Drainage troughs were engorged.


I sent off a few emails. Now I sit on my porch looking at this.

Where the Line Is

There’s a short story by Denis Johnson, “Emergency”. Maybe you know it. If you don’t, let me tell you a little about its most compelling scenes, the ones I can’t seem to get out of my head lately. The protagonist and Georgie are orderlies, and Georgie keeps mopping the floor of an otherwise spotless operating…

Calling though It’s Very Late

I’m a grown man. Married. My wife and I own our home, the cars we drive, and several insurance policies we’ve had drawn up to protect our investments. I own three suits, a blazer I hardly wear, two expensive pairs of brown shoes and one excellent pair of black spit-shined dress shoes. I enjoy the…


My wife is sleeping. It has been a long day for her. For me, too. But this isn’t about me.

A Partial View of the Mental Business Behind Listening

Just sit there a minute. Allow yourself the chance to listen to the sounds of this other person’s words. You can avoid making eye contact with this person while you listen. It’s okay to do this every now and then.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have had several short humor pieces accepted by the editor of, and the following links to my most recent, “What We Must, on Occasion, Do for Love.” It’s a story that pokes fun at the trouble guys have when it comes to shopping for clothes — and how they’re…