I drove to Houston the other day to deliver some LeTourneau earth-moving models that had been damaged, to a company that specializes in creating these types of scale models — and to have lunch with my middle daughter, Mere. On the way down, I decided to tune in to a satellite radio station that focuses on “mellow” songs from the 1970s and ’80s. By “mellow,” I suppose they mean the songs don’t feature a bunch of screaming guitar chords and indecipherable lyrics. I was never into heavy metal, preferring songs with lyrics I could understand, even if at times the phrases were somewhat...
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I am astride a John Deere tractor, swatting away mosquitoes on a 95-degree afternoon, sweat soaking my long-sleeved shirt and streaming down my face, as I carefully weave my way along a fence line, bush-hogging waist-high weeds. This is great, I thought, and grinned. I haven’t been on a tractor in nearly two decades. It’s good to be back in the saddle.
My Beautiful Mystery Companion, her brother and his son, our daughter’s boyfriend, and me have all pitched in to help a new acquaintance clean up some fence rows in the woods behind her home. Being the senior citizen of the crowd, I was tapped...
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So I strolled across old Main Street
Walked down a flight of stairs
Stepped into the hall
And saw all my friends were there
A neon sign was flashin’, “Welcome, come on in”
It feels so good feelin’ good again
— Feelin’ Good Again by Robert Earl Keen
WACO – We sat outside at the Backyard Grill and Stage, along with a few hundred other folks on a gorgeous spring evening, about to indulge in something that has not been possible for more than 15 months – listening to live music. We had reserved seats at a picnic table with four strangers, who quickly introduced themselves as we waited...
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Last year, when the world shut down because of the pandemic, and professional sports pivoted with cut-out spectators, playing in hubs and other necessary measures, I decided to take the year off from paying any attention. I ignored the baseball standings, didn’t watch any games, and did my best to pretend sports did not exist in 2020. It seemed the healthier approach.
It was not a difficult decision. The world was topsy turvy (for too many, it still is), so caring about who led the American League east division, or how the Celtics were doing playing in a “bubble,” did not seem to be something...
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