A week after I watched his documentary, The Last Man on the Moon, and days after I saw the film, Hidden Figures, astronaut Gene Cernan died. I'm having a hard time expressing the nostalgia, sadness, longing--the hiraeth I wrote about a year ago here--that I feel when I think about the space program . . .
This is a post about Gary Puckett and the Union Gap, the group's 1968 song "Young Girl" and changing mores. I know, what a combination, right? MO-RES is a noun that is pronounced ˈmôrāz/ and means the characteristic customs and conventions of a community. Our practices and habits. And for those . . .
I read a good novel the other day. Daughter of Ishmael, Promised Land, Broken Heart by Diane Stringam Tolley. Not only good. More than good, even! I'm a big fan of stories that transport me to another land, another era and deeply into a character different than me. Diane's new book is all those . . .
It's been about six weeks since I began detoxing on The Whole 30 program, which eliminates sugar, dairy and grains as options. I mean, they are gone, gone gone from my diet. And so has much of the joy of eating. Let's take coffee. I loved my two big cups of morning coffee, each with a slug of half . . .
Some time in the 80s, a friend's little girl thought Creedence Clearwater Revival sang "There's a bathroom on the right." The song was Bad Moon Rising and of course, the misheard lyric was "There's a bad moon on the rise." Don't you love those old songs with unintelligible lyrics? So we can make up . . .
Suppose we all had to wear a warning label. Mine would say: She tells the truth. Aloud. That's right. Truth told here. I just don't like the hedging, the little untruths, the massive lies. Do. Not. Like. Them. And here's another thing: If you tell the truth, you never have to remember your . . .
Father Sun, Grandmother Moon, to the Star Nations. Great Spirit, you who are known by a thousand names And you who are the unnamable One. Thank you for bringing us together And allowing us to sing the Song of Life. Like so many people who weren't given the gift of family in this . . .
There's good writing advice and there's bad writing advice. So let's talk about that. I know a lot of bloggers and some writers who quote writer Anne LaMott, who famously wrote: "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they . . .
When I heard the late Debbie Reynolds singing Tammy on the radio the other day, I felt something visceral in her wistful rendition, a heart-breaking nostalgia recalling a far more innocent era --an era we haven't seen in a long while and, I fear, we won't see again. I hear the cottonwoods . . .
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