The writer’s heart must be round. It must see through the obvious. It must have a heart for those who are heartless. A writer’s heart has to beat to the drum of love, even for those who don’t deserve it. A few weeks ago, I dreaded the simple act of waking up because...
Today, after rising at five o’clock to talk to my lover on the phone between five and six when he is on his way to work, I return to bed and dream that my son Jonathan is driving my friend Manta and me somewhere downtown and we pass a house on a street of crowded...
My dad was a car guy. Growing up, he didn’t have any doubts about where he wanted to end up in life career-wise, as far as I know anyway. He paid for the automotive classes he needed by bartending and by mopping floors at a local bodyshop, and by the time I was...
I hear the girls before I see them. “Oh my gosh, it’s a lizard!” Then a swarm of giggles and scuffling footsteps travel up the street, into the driveway, onto my front porch where I sit with a glass of Cabernet in the waning October sun reading Joan...
I teach English 101. My classroom is the first college experience most of my students ever have. On the first day of class, it’s a guarantee that someone will raise their hand to ask if they can go to the bathroom, and they will stare at me weirdly when I answer,...
