Me Again
Keith Cronin has that rare ability many writers wish they had: a near perfect sense of comedic timing, especially where the one-liner is concerned. It’s… Read More »Me Again
EJ
I Know Where The Brain-Dead Go
I’ve known for awhile where at least some of the brain-dead people go: they either run for office in, or go to work for, the city of Detroit. The fact that the Detroit Water and Sewerage Department hires the brain-dead was confirmed today when three, count em, THREE (3) employees of said company came out to – wait for it – turn off the water on three abandoned houses which DID NOT have the water turned on in the first place. They spent about 45 minutes to an hour looking for and opening the access to the shut-off valve to these three abandoned houses.
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Singing The Small Press Blues
So, I was up at Beyond The Margins this morning, reading a post about envy by Robin Black. I think most, if not all, writers are envious of other writers at one point or another. But that alone is not why I checked the post out. I’ve been struggling with something that goes beyond mere envy. Indeed, it’s not envy at all, nor envy’s evil cousin jealousy. It’s anger.
Let me explain.
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The American Dream
Okay, I don’t watch much TV, the advertisements drive me batshit for one thing. Recently, before thumbing the big, fat, turn-it-all-the-hell-off button I did see one that got me thinking, and wondering. It was an old man on a porch, my age maybe, with a young kid and the old man is lamenting how the American Dream of home ownership is, if not dead, drawing its last breath. Well, that may be the case across much of this country but it damn well ain’t the case here in Detroit.
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In Like A Lion
It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a place with four distinct seasons. Albuquerque came closest, I guess, with its five minutes of Spring and Fall separating its bitter, mile-high Winter and its blistering, brain-melting Summer.
Back in Detroit. Think I’ve mentioned that before. Here there are four distinct seasons. Winter, overall, is hard to forget. Cold. That, along with too long, about sums up winter in Detroit. It’s been a mild one, this my first winter back but still, anything less than 60 degrees sucks.
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