I learned that it’s fine to reflect back on the events that shaped me, but I shouldn’t imply that the little-me had these thoughts in the moment. That would be inauthentic.
When I see Trump signs, I realize how proud these people are to support Trump. And then I wonder what makes them proud.
My home has an evil presence that must be avoided.
Caution… old dude writing. Reading this essay requires a basic knowledge of the TV show Star Trek.
I’m happy to say my Rap Sheet is blank, but on my application, I wound up listing an alias.
Remember when the news was boring?
What do you know about me so far?
I’m losing uninterrupted access to one of my best friends in the world.
Those were the days.
It’s clear to me, and sixty-some percent of the population, that Trump is no Lincoln.
Yes, that Donald Trump.
I’ve been feeling off since I got sick in February. Not only with dizziness but also shortness of breath.
I simply have no convenient time or place to listen to music anymore.
My mother died at forty-nine. If she was still alive, she’d be eighty-two.
Our sign: “Confederate Flags are Racist and Hateful!” This got attention.
How do you celebrate your country?