According to my wife, I am now officially eccentric.

I am grateful I am not a turkey this week. Plus, I would look silly with those little white booties on my feet. The good tan, however, I could learn to like.

If I were an automobile, I might get maintenance notices from the factory reminding me to have my timing belt replaced or to check the belts up front. And with all that accumulated “mileage” inside of me comes a bit of learned wisdom.

I never thought I would become the parent who saw his child once a year. But, as life evolves for my son and me, the cards dealt this year left me looking at a hand I never expected to see.

Last week, a friend told me how a minister told her marriage would be like the ocean tides.

For years, I thought of the color orange whenever thinking about the month of October. Pumpkins, leaves, candy corn. But now I see pink.

I am increasingly convinced I am losing my mind.

Angels can appear from anywhere — even dressed in dark sunglasses and driving a Ford Mustang.

My friend is a big man by any measure. But more importantly, his physical status is dwarfed by the size of his heart.

Sometimes getting angry is the right thing to do.

After more than two years, the COVID virus finally caught up with me.

The other day, my wife made a rather bold statement that rocked me right down to my life insurance policy.

A younger person once asked me what common traits I thought successful people held and practiced.

I love a good blueberry cake doughnut.

I no longer bounce.

Often in life we preoccupy ourselves with the intent of avoiding failure at all costs — as if doing so will guarantee our personal growth and success in life. And then I remember a small dead bush.

Teenage students holding jobs continue to drop into the background like vinyl tops on automobiles and the No. 2 pencil used to rewind your favorite cassette tape.