Stop Whistling and Start Singing

Whistling past the graveyard.  That phrase has been running through my mind all week long like it’s on a neverending loop.  Whistling past the graveyard.  Whistling past the graveyard.  Whistling past the graveyard. Frankly that’s how most of these essays get started. Some little thing — a memory, an image, a notion, a saying —…

The Nightlife Ain’t No Good Life

It’s been a helluva week. My car broke down, and I had to walk the rest of the way to work. I passed a murky pool by some rundown apartments and saw a sunken Tonka dump truck barely visible in the green water. By the time I got halfway to my office it was getting…

Easter in the Time of Coronavirus

It’s Easter Sunday. Jesus is back, but the Easter Bunny didn’t drop by. Baskets and plastic grass and chocolate rabbits just didn’t seem worth the risk of going to the store this year.