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Essays

Ratpacking

I am a recovering pack rat. And let me tell you, it ain’t easy. Deciding to let go of your treasures (actual or imagined) is a hard choice to make.

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Essays

Make Friends, Not Money

Humans are plentiful; friends are in short supply, but infinite in possibility. A friend is someone who has truly accepted you, taking all your best into them and offering you their best in return.

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Essays

Busy Doesn’t Equal Productive

There are any number of ways to attempt to manage all your conflicting priorities. Most of them are pointless.

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Essays

It’s not there anymore

I pushed the door open with both hands and sauntered to the soda counter. Sitting on an old high stool I gazed around and took in the shelves that ran floor to ceiling. The smell of mildew stung the air and I felt as if I were trespassing time itself.

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Essays

My Binary Life

Someone was ranting on the radio today. That’s not unusual, of course. But what caught my attention was the subject of the rant. “I blame computers,” the ranter said. “It’s all this TV and video games and computers that’s ruining the kids. There’s no creativity.” And that got me thinking. First of all, full disclosure: […]

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Essays

Telling Stories

I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to help many people tell their stories over the years. Every now and then, I go back and read those stories; I often find I’m moved all over again – both by the story itself and the great honor to be asked to tell it.

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Essays

First Taste of Fall

I noticed a little something different as I stepped out the door this morning. There was a crispness in the air that I haven’t felt for months. The oppressive heat that had assaulted my nostrils was gone, replaced by cool, fresh air and the scent of freshly turned earth that follows a soaking rain.

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Essays

It's Not There Anymore

I pushed the door open with both hands and sauntered to the soda counter. Sitting on an old high stool I gazed around and took in the shelves that ran floor to ceiling. They were packed solid with merchandise I barely recognized. Trinkets, games and toys lined the walls and even fell onto the floor; the smell of mildew stung the air and I felt as if I was trespassing time itself.

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Essays

The Grand Adventure

I’ve found that creativity is almost a possession; the work takes over, and you’re not your own again until it’s done. For better or worse, you’re bound to culminate the idea or it will never let you be. It may sound a little scary, but it’s the biggest thrill in the world.