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Wasting Time


It’s Saturday morning and I’ve come downstairs to find my wife Jane sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and reading a magazine.  I’ve been upstairs showering, dressing, and generally trying to decide how I want to waste my time today. That’s what Jane calls it. Wasting time.  I’m okay with that.  I don’t have a problem wasting time.  In fact, a large part of my days off are spent contemplating how to waste as much of it as possible.  I’m good at it. Jane does...

Going to Church


Back before the accident we’d always go surfing on Sunday mornings. He called it going to church. “Come on, let’s go to church,” he’d say. “I’ll call you in the morning. We don’t want to be late.” Then he’d laugh and slap his knee like he hadn’t said that a thousand times before. He was big knee slapper. I can still see him, riding along in the passenger seat of my old pickup, drinking a Red Stripe, the wind in his hair, the wrinkles in his face from years in the sun even more pronounced when...

Writer | Journalist | Storyteller


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