Even though our Dempublican Party Convention was purposely held after the RNC but before the DNC, on Saturday afternoon, between 1:30 and 2:15 p.m., in the seating area of the Fred Meyer deli, it was still somehow overlooked by the media!
Although I’m pretty sure someone was live-streaming us on Facebook with their iPod.
As they walked by, grocery shopping with their infant.
Anyway, now that the conventions are over, some of you may still be undecided about who to vote for this November. Or, like a lot of Americans, you feel as though you’re not voting FOR someone as much as you are voting against Trump someone else?
Is THAT what our forefathers had in mind when they took the risk of gathering together in secret to get drunk at Christiana Campbell’s Tavern and write the Declaration of Independence?!?
I don’t think so!
And did our forefathers like bacon? Yes! (If they still had their teeth). So, if YOU like bacon, and THEY liked bacon, then the Dempublican Party is YOUR party because bacon is a huge part of our platform! In fact, we tried to make a speaking platform out of actual bacon but, well…
Sitting on the edge of the bed this morning, I looked over at my wife’s slowly stirring figure. I watched her stretch beneath the blankets and finish with that little squeal that means it was a good stretch. She yawned, covering her mouth with the back of her hand like she always does. Her eyes focused and she slowly smiled at me.
I smiled back, knowing in that moment I was exactly where I was supposed to be in my life.
Before heading to work, I slipped a note into her lunch:
You may want to stand up before reading this. That’s because, according to a recent study published in the Annals of Internal Medicine, (trust me, I double checked the spelling on that) sitting actually increases your chances of premature death.
And no, I’m not talking about accidentally sitting on a rattlesnake or Christian Bale’s car hood. I’m talking about the normal, everyday kind of sitting we all do — at work, in the car, at the end of a long day, while playing basketball — that a group of Toronto researchers says increases our chance of health “issues” that can lead to death.
The right of the press to circulate information and opinion without censorship by the government.
While watching coverage of this week’s Republican National Convention, I switched between CNN, ABC, FOX-News, CBS and others. I read news articles online and in print, and watched live streaming from different sources online.
And I was struck by how one event could be seen so differently by so many news organizations — nearly all of which had a clear slant, whether for or against.
Our founding fathers made Freedom of the Press part of the Constitution’s First Amendment because, in the words of its principle author James Madison:
“We have no Facebook yet.”
And because I’m a journalist, you can trust me on that.
During my mini book tour to Watsonville, Calif., a few weeks ago, it became apparent that even as a 49-year-old I still have the directional sense of a standard windsock.
If not for the GPS system in the rental car, I would probably be outside of Reno looking for an on-ramp to Sacramento right now.
It’s a disorder many famous historical figures also suffered from, including Christopher Columbus, who discovered America completely by accident while looking for — if memory of sixth-grade history serves me — a faster trade route to WalMart.
I’m the kind of person who must enter and leave somewhere the same exact way in order to keep from getting lost, even if it means walking backwards out of a public facility, such as the men’s room at Safeco Field. I’ve actually had nightmares about being a contestant on The Amazing Race. In it, I am partnered with my friend David, who spent six years in the Marines and therefore still refers to distances as “clicks” — a unit of measure based on kilometers and the use of a special clicking device. Were I trying to find my way out of enemy territory, this device would be about as useful to me as, say…
In early July, when Kendall F. Person first invited me to be a part of the annual #ourweekofpeace, I of course said “Yes” for many reasons, not the least of which was because it’s an opportunity to collaborate with other artists — writers, musicians, poets, singers and photographers — in a week-long tribute to peace in our world. Little did I know how, within just a few days of our conversation, the world would seem to come crashing down in Minnesota, Baton Rouge, Dallas and, most recently, France.
Once again, we have a reason to mourn senseless tragedy.
As some of you may know (and by “some” of you, I mean my publisher) I’ve been working on my manuscript, Pearls of Writing Wisdom:From 16 shucking years as a columnist, for the last few weeks.
I am now on the final chapter, which will be done tomorrow, depending on what time of day I decide to start drinking.
Ha! Ha! Just kidding! There’s no need to pick a time.
Anyway, this book is particularly special to me because, if you are a writer (or fear you might be one), I wrote this book for you. Think of it as the conversation we’d have about writing if we were sharing a cold beer. We’d talk about technique, style, personal experience and hopes. We’d encourage each other and share a few laughs. We might even get a little rowdy and start using air quotation marks.
As you may remember (I know State Farm does), it was a year ago this week that our son became the first of our kids to get his driver’s permit.
That leaves two more of our teens who will likely be entering the roadways over the next few years.
I’m really sorry about that.
For those of you who might be facing a similar situation, or who are now reconsidering having children at all, I’d like to offer this short video sharing a few tips with parents on how to survive having a teen driver. It’s less than two minutes but it could save your life.
Especially if you’re driving anywhere near our neighborhood…
I generally reserve this place for humor. That’s because I believe in the power of its shared experience, and how that experience brings people together. Good humor transcends color, religion, geography, financial status or political affiliation. It’s devoid of hate and allows us to embrace a common thread woven through our humanity that we all share through laughter.
All living creatures get angry, scared, excited or worried; it’s humor that makes us human.
But there are mornings like this when being funny doesn’t feel right. The events of the past few days have spilled over from a collective cup that has been filling with a bitter brew being served during a time of unprecedented polarization within our country. We are being divided and conquered by fear — of each other, our differences, and a political landscape that inspires the worst in us instead of what defines us at our best.
And we swallow this bitter brew not because it’s what we want, but because it’s all there is.
This week’s shootings in Louisiana, Minnessota and Dallas — like Orlando — are about the kind of fear that breeds mistrust and hatred. It’s also the kind of fear that is fast becoming the oxygen within the current political atmosphere. The more of it we breathe, the more it permeates us, coursing through our life blood and into our hearts until that fear we breathe is what sustains us. Continue reading Only embracing our common thread can keep America from unraveling