The Shenandoah County Fair of my youth was a safe haven for quality family entertainment. Alcohol, gambling and nudity. Oh yea, and bear vs. man wrestling. During that one week of the year, you could join family and friends in a toast of liquor out in the parking lot or grab a beer from the hidden keg of a local vendor; place a ‘behinds-the-screens’ bet on the harness races or play the dice game at the far end of the midway; then watch totally nude women perform obscene acts with inanimate objects while standing behind the safety of a canvas tent, obscured in the eyes of God and your wife. But those days are gone. The society of those simpler times has crumbled and all that we’re left with now are livestock judging, rubber duckies, and cotton candy. Continue reading The County Fair of my youth
I have issues. It’s a long list, as anyone that knows me well enough will tell you. And on that long list are entries numbered 3, 7, 12 and 21. Significant both as issues on the list and literally the written numbers themselves. A self-diagnosis of these particular issues points towards a hybrid virus of Numerology and Arithmomania. Oh, wait, Wheel of Fortune is on. Continue reading Numbers
One evening I was dreaming about Mitch and I at the age of 19 in Daytona Beach, a trip that we took to reset our minds before the stress of months of college classes. If my brain could type, I’d have three-hundred pages already. Continue reading Mitch and Robin in Daytona Beach
(My wonderful Goddaughter and I went to Costa Rica a couple of years ago. Here’s the actual email that I sent to our loved ones back home. OK, you’re right, the edited email.)
So Rachel and I went to the beach today for the first time. A short walk down from our hotel. The sand at this stretch of beach is dark brown/black from volcanic rock. Lots of waves..lots of surfers. Not for swimming. After we double coated Rachel with 9000 SPF, she did what women do. Lay and bake, read a book. Turn over. Repeat.