My Son

| August 3, 2015

My daddy had a way of turning those two words, ‘my son’,  into a compound word with profound depth. He would say, ‘I love you, my-son’. But the my-son was said differently. A little bit of a whisper to it, maybe. He choked over it a little. It had a depth of feeling that I [...]

His Hands.

| December 18, 2011

His hands were clean. They were folded across his chest, but I’d seen him sleep that way before. No, what was so strange was  that they were clean. He would wash his hands before every meal and of course when he was dressed up for church. Despite those efforts, they never really looked clean. They [...]

Minimum Wage and the Nanny State.

| October 20, 2005

So i heard this morning about ANOTHER push to raise minimum wage, and I thought to myself, “Why won’t they just let the wage be determined by what people will work for. I mean if a man is willing to pull weeds in the afternoon for $2/hr then let him. It’s his back and hands [...]