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a sad reality about my friends

I have way too many friends who are Dodgers fans. I forgive them. Read More...
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musings on spring

I made the mistake this evening of asking Joel if he was making dirt. "I'm making dust," he tells me. "Dirt is made from things that die and from poop and from rocks when they die." I was struck by the efortlessness of dirt and flowers and orange trees. Read More...
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ice and dogma

Christy and I visited Sonic the other night (the fastfood joint and not the hedgehog) and I ordered a forty four ounce of soda. I thought it would be soda, but instead it was a large bucket of ice with just enough soda in between the cracks. There sips Read More...
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a few more conversations with my sons

Joel says, "I want my compass to talk." "It's impossible." "But you said it tells you where to go, daddy." "What I meant is that you can read it." "But I need it to talk to me in case I'm lost in the forest." "Joel, if you're ever in the forest, you know Read More...
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turning thirty

If I was a verb tense, I'd be a past progressive, present imperfect and yearning for a future perfect. I'm thirty today. It feels like a milestone, but I'll celebrate it quietly. I'll probably splurge a little and go to Starbucks and then spend the day Read More...
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I hope he stays a lunatic for life

Micah tells Joel to look up at the moon. The elder is taking a lesson from the younger, a quick reminder that the moon still matters. "It was hiding behind the clouds, but now it's back," Micah explains. "It's a quarter-moon," Joel adds. "A quarter is Read More...
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Which cover looks better?

So, I've been working on a writing an indie book (indie sounds so much cooler than self-published) called Teaching Unmasked and it's based on the paradox of impact. I think I've gotten over the need to have my work published by a "real" publisher and Read More...
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turning a day's word verifications into a poem

I decided to record all of my Facebook Word Verifications (CAPTCHA) from yesterday and paste them in the exact order to see what kind of random nonsense I get: in Romans lost legacy we sit on television ransacked nation ankle glory chained left lives Read More...
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staring into a shattered window

Once a month, we have a philosophical discussion as a group. People occasionally bring friends, but on some level, we know one another. The conversation typically remains civil and deep - sort-of the antithesis of Fox News or CNN. The topic is the relationship Read More...
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cleaning out my wallet -- perhaps the lamest blog post I've ever written

I've never had a massive wallet. Perhaps I am a minimalist or maybe just a little too simplistic in how I live. People occasionally get angry that I don't carry pictures of my children in my wallet, as if that is a barometer of my parenting ability. It's Read More...
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Salinger is Dead

I rarely get choked up when a celebrity dies and yet I felt something deep within at the death of Salinger. I know he was a recluse and anti-social and all of that, yet I wonder if that's a part of why I liked him. He was human and he had no desire to Read More...
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developing an escape world

I'm talking to a friend and I share some ideas of what I want to do next year. After awhile, I cut myself off and say, "I feel like I'm starting to slip into that dangerous place where I say 'It will be better when . . .' and then I miss out on what's Read More...
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thoughts on parental involvement

A lame request: If you read this blog often, could you click on "Follow" at the side? It's not simply for vanity (though that might play a role) but also because I like to know who reads these musings. It makes it a little less anonymous. I start to type Read More...
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faith of a child

My wife sent this to me a few minutes ago (please don't try to look too far into it and criticize his theology): During lunchtime today I gave Brenna a kiss. Joel looks at me and asks, “Mom, do you know who gets the most kisses?” “Brenna?” I answer. “No, Read More...
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Abuelas and the Banana Republic

I originally wrote this for Nerdfighteria Misfits and so I'm publishing here now. An abuela with wrinkly skin stands in the steam, hair pulled tight with pins. She's scooping out Spanish rice for the guests, separated not merely by a sheet of dry wall, Read More...
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