I need to find a banana.
This is what happens when I don’t eat breakfast. Which actually happens a lot – I write about food. Now, I’m no food critic. I just eat it. That about sums up my relationship with food. If I like it, I eat more of it. If I don’t like it, I don’t eat it more than three, four times, just to be sure. Chances are I will eventually come to love all food. You know, your taste buds change, like, what, every seven years? I used to hate Brussels sprouts, but now, no, wait, I still don’t really like Brussels sprouts, but...
Children of the Corn-y, or Why I Loved the 80s
I don’t like getting older, necessarily, but the beauty of it is that it’s happening, whether I like it or not. Might as well relax into it. So, what does one do as one’s “twilight” approaches? One reminisces about “what made them cool back in the day.” Nostalgia for children of the 1980s leads automatically to all the cool tchotchkes and fads that defined what cultural historians would eventually call the “Me Generation.” I’m sure it does for children of any decade, but I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about me, us. And, really, can we be honest, here?, children of...
Go Green, young man, and grow up with the country.
I rarely cash in on a fad. Not out of disdain or separatist leanings, I’m usually just too lazy to keep up. But, Main Street, the heart of downtown, which I live so close to as to worry that it’s developed angina, has given over whole contents of wallets to cash in on “Going Green.” And let me tell you something. When you give a lot of money to a cause, it is no longer a fad. It is a fact, i.e. We now have bicycle lanes. The thing is, it’s catching on. I went downtown, before Christmas to buy a book for my brother-in-law, a...
First things first…
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, family, humor
One thing that seems universal to all children is the idea of what it means to be first. It doesn’t matter at what they’re being the first, either. Being first carries within it all the intended glory necessary. First to sit still, first to get a haircut, first to touch base during hide-and-seek, first to finish dinner. Endless possibilities. My nephews, this past Sunday, case in point, were running neck-and-neck, outside, racing each other from one side of the yard to the other, simply for the bragging rights of saying, “I beat you. I got here first.” Wynn Chandler, the baby who...
“I’m the freaking boss of TV, just so you know.”
Filed under: Deep South, education, Everyday, family, humor
I’ve made no little secret about the fact that growing up, as I did, the television was not the center of the universe. Not in our house. It was carefully guarded: it and all its wonders of delicious and suggestive programming. The only television station that I was allowed to watch, almost entirely on my own and un-chaperoned, was good, old PBS. And, oh, how I watched it: Letter People, Clyde the Frog, Voyage of the Mimi, and one of my all-time faves, Read All About It. Even learning, early on, how to convince U.L. that some shows were appropriate—How could they...
“We’ll just draw names again. Except for the babies.”
Filed under: Deep South, faith, family, food, humor, life
I’ve never really cared about the gift exchange element to Christmas. Time and time again, as a child, I’d be asked what I wanted and time and time again, I’d say I didn’t care. I’d be pressed until I crumbled and rattled off some random item. A typewriter (which I ended up loving), board games (which I’ve since donated to high school theatre departments), books (I still have every one of these), a video recorder (I used it once six years ago to document a living will). I’ve never really put that much focus on material things. Not to say that I...
I’ve never had a mullet, and other Things I Can Brag About [...]*
Filed under: Deep South, education, Everyday, faith, family, food, humor, life, writing
* The full, real title is I've never had a mullet, and other Things I Feel I Have the Right to Brag About and also Things I Cannot Stand. Just, you know, FYI. You should know that what follows is a) a partial list only, and b) they’re not in any particular order of Cannot Stand vs. Brag. I would say to put your Big Boy Panties on and read carefully, but it’s odd how similar the things I can’t stand and the things I want to brag about actually are. I’m not sure what that says about me, but anyway – to be safe –...
One of my favorite games, growing up, was Beleaguered Librarian.
Filed under: Deep South, education, End of the World, Everyday, humor, language, life
Here’s something you don’t know about me: I enjoy doing my taxes. I rarely get anything back from them, so that’s hardly the reason why – there’s no monetary motivation behind it – it’s just that, deep down, I really like filling in things, forms, blanks. I like putting things where they go, seeing them meld into the template of the 1040EZ, or the W-2, or the New York Times Crossword. I like it because when things fit, I’m pleased. I like it because, when it’s all said and done, it looks neat. And I like it because it looks intimidating: To think that...
Suffice it to say, I was spanked, a second time, OR The 100th Blog.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, life, writing
I didn’t get spanked, as a child…much.
U.L. didn’t really believe in that, unless you’d done some really horrendous thing, which I never truly did because God, you know, also rented a room at U.L.’s house, and so it was really hard to get away with much of anything between the two of them. And then there was Jesus. He was always like, Hey, we'll fix it later. I liked him the most. I hated that he moved out.
I’m not saying I never got spanked, kids being kids, but I tried really hard to be a good boy. And, for the most...
She said tetherball, and I immediately felt sorry for her.
Filed under: Deep South, education, Everyday, family, language, life, theatre
Before I begin the section on Theatre History, for non-majors, I always start the class off by discussing children’s games. I ask them what their favorite games were when they were little, and then I segue from that into the ideas of exaggerated expression, storytelling, being larger than yourself, and then lead them all the way into that post-adolescent Catch-22 of knowing which parent to ask to get permission to do whatever it is the other parent said No to. Because a lot of those ideas are exactly where theatre’s roots lie, at least coming at it from the...


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