This is not nearly as political as some of you want me to be, but it’s the first time I have written anything in four months. I sat down to see if my fingers could remember what to do.
“She trusted us to have his best interest at heart and she trusted us to know the care he required. Calling the police for him was wrong, it was a mistake, and it was racist.”
Even if you’re doing it wrong, you’re doing it. So do it.
I’d call this Part One of my Boston Marathon experience, but that part started the day I did my first long run.
When the Internet concern trolls you and calls you crazy, you turn that shit into a podcast.
I was ging to write a short feature about a friend’s book I really love, and this is what happened.
Yesterday she took the Lord’s name in vain. In the proper context. That was a text I didn’t forward to my mother.
Coming to terms with the reality facing those of us who are parents of a generation that will not know life without the Internet.
If only those random strangers on Facebook could see THIS post. HOOOOOO!
The cautionary tale strikes again.