Driving 12 hours from Detroit, we crossed a drawbridge onto the island. Then we took a car ferry to the next island. Finally, we rode a small passenger ferry to this remote rock. If we want to go any further, it’ll be by kayak or backstroke.
Sometimes I simply love being a freelance writer and photographer. This past week was one of those times.
A large company in Southeast Michigan hired me to travel around photographing people, towns and neighborhoods in and about Detroit for the sole purpose of putting them in a brochure to attract potential employees.
Go see The Fault In Our Stars.
I can’t be any more direct than that. You’ve probably heard about the movie, based on the massively best-selling John Green book of the same title. It centers around Hazel and Gus, two whip-smart teens who are both dealing with cancer. Yes, it’s a Young Adult story supposedly, but you’ll love it if you’re 90.
The secret email arrived late at night with the Porky Pig insignia.
SUBJECT LINE: “What can one person do to make a difference?”
Like those old-school raves of the 1990s, we were informed where to go, but the note ended. “Psssst … now you know the location, so guard the secret.”
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Anyone have a good line on a yard pump? I’m looking for something that surely doesn’t exist, sort of like a reverse sprinkler. I want a device that sucks the water back off my lawn, into some pipes, then sends it along its merry way wherever water goes when it’s not welcome — the Southwest maybe.
I know it’s sacrilegious to moan about excess water during these days of extreme global climate change. But that’s sort of my point; any excess of any kind points to what scientists have proven long ago, we’re screwing around too much with Mother Earth.
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.”
I can’t show you any pictures.
Nor can I name any names.
But I’ve just spent a fantastic four weeks teaching formerly homeless folks about photography.
This is a transcript of the fun chat I had with The Poynter Institute about my latest book Getting Laid (off).
Earlier this week we broke an all-time record for snowfall. We received 94.8 inches, with the last three falling on our poor daffodils. Today I wandered around the yard snapping photos to show the dichotomy.
Ah, Spring in Michigan!
You may remember my Gray Weeds post as Fall fell on me. Enjoy this quick update to my Autumnal tumble. I’m happy, relieved and suffering from Spring Fever. It’s a delightful Vernal disease.

