My grandmother turns 100 this month. Here’s a look back at her first century on this planet.
After three non-fiction books, his first novel.
Detroit — With Spring Training well underway, Detroit-based author Rodney Curtis has just released his latest book, Hope’s Diamond.
The novel is a fun, fantastical tale focused on baseball, Detroit, relationships and the funny things that happen when you toss a little mystical Hope into the mix.
It’s 4:34 am.
I call this time “heh.” I’ve written about it in the past, back when my digital clock seemed to be chuckling at me. Turn 4:34 upside down and it says hEh.
Heh, you’re not sleeping. Heh, those thoughts racing through your brain are going nowhere fast. Heh.
With the 100th anniversary of the Armenian Genocide happening this month,
I’m re-sharing my personal experience at the memorial to its the slain citizens.
This story appeared in my first book, Spiritual Wanderer, from which this blog gets its name.
The trip was exhausting. We were behind the Iron Curtain and at the mercy of the official Soviet travel agency, Intourist. It was 1984. The Cold War was showing no real signs of flaring up or calming down, and my intestines were wracked with what I liked to refer as the commie crud. I sat in a hotel in downtown Moscow, across the street from an enormous statue depicting Russian space flight and all I wanted to do was bend over the toilet. I felt worse than the embalmed body of Lenin who laid in state just down the street.
I just want to say at the outset, that I’m not always as smart as I like to think I am. This surely comes as a shock to virtually no one, not the least of whom me. Heck, I don’t even know if I constructed that previous sentence smartly.
But what I do know is that up until today — the beginning of March, 2015 — I confused Charles Bukowski with The Big Lebowski.
Mary Magdalene tweeted the disciple’s secret location, tipping off the Romans. It’s okay, Jesus made her do it.
Pontius Pilate was a John Wayne impersonator.
The shepherds in their field at night were gang members.
But the most shocking thing maybe — apart from all the male and female body parts — was the Angel Gabriel being a lesbian who explained to Mary about virgin birth, “Honey, sometimes you just don’t need a man.”