I may be one of the intellectually elite, but that doesn't mean I can make a sandwich at the deli.
At the polls, we tried to serve the people quickly and keep the line moving. Yet as fast as we worked, we still connected with people as we assisted them in exercising their right to vote.
Most of the thousands of people who came through the line were quite pleasant but there were a handful who were hostile. One fellow yelled at a coordinator because he didn’t like her tone. Another actually slapped an attendant in her face with his ballot.
It was my favorite evening of the week, where I sat alone in my quiet room, filling up on food and stories of heroes, horses, humor, spaceships, and sex.
I’m trying to use a little taste and discretion in my efforts to practice safe sex and you’d think the Almighty would cut me a break. But nooooooo….
I’d go to the homes of my family and friends and find all their writings, paying special attention to their handwritten journals and poetry.
I feel her presence in the rhythm of the keys which resonates deep into my chest.
One year, items for the gift exchange included crocheted potholders, pickled quail eggs, and five-year-old cologne that was good for killing fire ants.
In the dugout we stomped our feet and gnashed our teeth. The score was eighty-seven to nothing, but if we had to take the field, the tide of misfortune could quickly turn and take us down.
She's a member of my church and I don't want her to see me lugging an economy sized box of extra thin, lubricated prophylactics.