My son just called me from Missouri, in tears. In sobs. “I’ll call you tomorrow, I’m going to get shit faced” were his last words before hanging up. A lifelong friend is dead, thrown out of a car -- a car driven by yet another friend. A friend he now wants to see go to jail, or whom he would like to extract retribution. I suspect that they ( Read more... )

It feels to me like my life is happening way too fast for me to hope to record it. Maybe if I could type like my wife ( Read more... )