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On Swimming Holes
An Arkansas summer is made for exploration. An Arkansas summer is made for boys. There are tangy homegrown tomatoes to be picked, to be eaten straight from the hand; the Arkansas Traveler being my...
View Article5 Instructions to My Sons
I’ve been considering what it means to employ the craft of writing for my immediate community, and what community could be more immediate than the community of my family? To that end, I’ve written...
View ArticleFor Titus
For Titus: I was da, when the milk teeth first broke ivory white through new pink and grew fast from the floor up. I was da, a single syllable like mild, like love, like peace. I was da-da, when the...
View ArticleParade of Questions
It was a daddy-date, just the two of us. Ian and I sat at U.S. Pizza Company, the home of the non-artisanal, non-organic, thin and crispy crust pizza. This is not your upper-crust fare; instead, it is...
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THE GIFT OF FRINGE HOURS (OR WHY MEN’S RETREATS ARE SEXIST)
Men’s retreats—whether church getaways or hunting trips—have always baffled me. This, I think, is one of the most honest statements I have ever written in this online space. Allow me to explain. We...
View ArticleWhat’s Gentleman’s Club, Daddy?
Baby it’s cold outside. Cousin winter blew into town like an uninvited guest and brought the old ice-skating-rink-in-a-box with him. He spilled that skating rink across the entire town, looked at the...
View ArticleWhen Children Grow
I tucked myself in the floorboard of the Subaru, my back against the floor curve and my legs reaching into the seat. A plastic blaster in either hand, I scanned the galaxy for any sign of Imperial...
View ArticleOn Pimps, Pushers, and Five Nights at Freddy’s
He came into the room, head down, hands wringing. “I can’t sleep,” he mumbled, and when I asked him why, he walked across the hardwood floor, leaned in and whispered “Freddy.” Child of the 80s as I am,...
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Boy Again
My family took a much needed vacation to the Gulf last week. It was fantastic (and accounts for my silence), and this week I’m sharing bits and pieces of it with you. I’ll write very little, and am...
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Grandma’s Passing
My grandmother slipped behind the veil last week. Slow, groggy, feeling a little too tired, she laid down for a ten-minute nap and woke in eternity. My parents said she went with a smile on her face....
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7 Things to Tell Your Sons About Anxiety
1. Twenty-some-odd of us sat in the living room on plush chairs, recliners, and an elegant sectional. Conversations among friends began to have the feel of a twelve step meeting, what with everyone...
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How to Pray For Fish
In our fifteen years of marriage, Amber and I have moved more than migratory birds. I’ve written about this before, just two months ago. What’s more, at the time I penned those words about home, I had...
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Redefining Recovery
It’s National Recovery Month, so I’m spinning a few pieces on the subject and reimagining the language. What is recovery? How do we find it? Consider the word–recovery. We use it as a badge of honor,...
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