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Recent writing

 

Regarding the Facebook Group: Stripes Report Marfa: The most accurate and up to date reports on anything Stripes in Marfa.

So it began as an inside joke, for sure–a Facebook group started by a band of small-town folks to keep tabs on(read more…)

Ruminating about el poncho. Why do I wear a poncho? Certainly to get attention. But that’s down around 14 on the list. Take my one of my memories:

Though sweltering in a noon sun, I lay huddled under my poncho on the wooden bench outside the Mexican train station, while a squadron of black flies swirled erratically outside and test landed across my rough cotton cover with their filthy, offal-ridden feet. … (read more…)

I don’t write poetry. But I did today.

Now is when the squirrels splay over center lines, their innards bubbling into their incisors.
When the din of dogs ricochets off alley walls, but no heed is paid from windows beyond.

Wading back into travel writing again. And my recent trip with my daughter–Piper–to Mexico provided a perfect opportunity to address the idea of “split vacations” for the Matador Network.

Here’s a few photos from our trip that weren’t included!

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treehouseyahWhen I was a child—oh about second grade through sixth grade—I spent most of my free time in the tree tops in a little copse in a field behind my house in Richardson, Texas. On blistery … (read more…)

It was a chaotic time of life for us as my wife and I traded off on time spent caring for our first child and trying to work on our businesses. So as yet another hectic summer day dawned in 2002, a knock on the door sent my wife, Rebecca, scrambling to scoop up the 9-month-old Alex and shush Banjo, the Labrador Retriever barking menacingly through the window…

Dr. Phil is bald and sounds like a hick. He’s into psychotherapy in some respect. Not sure if he has a medical license and can dispense, I mean prescribe, drugs. But he’s popular on television, where he treads into his murky ways of helping people weep their way through problems, usually surrounding relationships….

Continued–a bit–from: Dr. Phil has Nothing to Do With Processed Meat

From then on, after the night of Jack, I began killing animals. They showed up, or I stumbled upon them, wounded. I would come across a bird fallen from its nest, bare naked and gasping for the branches above, squinting through dry-eye mucous to the treetops for the rough nest hewn … (read more…)