It was easy to feel like my vote never mattered there, since I rarely voted for a winner.
“Are zeeez Ger-man Shorthaired Pointers?” she asked excitedly in a thick, not quite distinguishable accent from some eastern part of Europe.
Maybe it will hit me square in the near future, but a part of me hopes I always look around with a bit of wonder at it and never lose this new appreciation.
Suddenly her petting his lap didn’t seem as weird.
Sure, there are setbacks and you have to pivot, but none of the great stories started with, “And then she sat in her house on Walts for the rest of her life.”
I was just a little munchkin not even half the height of the basket, but as he let me win, I felt taller than the trees.
The bike was the next best thing, so I did sprints up and down hills, my muscles on fire, until my mind was moving slower than my legs.
Our relationships with our dogs are so simple 95% of the time--damn the 5%. We take them in knowing we will almost certainly outlive them and still develop the strongest of bonds.
It all started when my mother sent out an email “Calling all kids and dogs.”
I’ve heard, “Your dog is SKINNY!” more times than I can count and Joey certainly never lets those kids lay a hand on her.
And as we continued on the grass path, one foot in front of the other, she told me why her mom couldn’t be there.
A band begins to play, "I walk along the avenue" as I down a water and side belch. I take another cup, swish, and spit as he sings, "I never met a girl like you..."
When things would inevitably not work, Marilyn’s sage advice, “Sometimes you gotta kiss a lot of frogs before one turns into a prince.”
There was a very distinct memory placed at that moment, when a little voice in my head told me, “You always wanted attention from guys, this must be what it’s like.”
He danced his funky self all over that little stage--a small town, white boy carrying a few extra pounds was like the second coming of the His Royal Badness. It was all so beautiful and raw and sexy and well, confusing.
These are the type of men who bring their Chessie Retriever with grapefruit-sized testicles swinging about to the park and then wonder why toddlers run in fear. The kids aren’t afraid of the pooch, they are afraid of knockout by scrotum.
For years, being big (and tough) was a shield to protect me from letting myself be vulnerable with any of you humans. To a certain degree, it still is.
Cable television with TBS and WGN afforded two reliable options: You watch the Braves or you watch the Cubbies. I picked the Cubs and I offer you complete clarity on why: Harry Caray.
A wise man who wrestled with the darkness taught me that it’s never about making bad people good, it’s about helping sick people get well.
It’s easier to be angry at the sick person than be angry with yourself for how your choices helped create the situation.