Perspective “Well, that’s annoying.” I was on my hands and knees, carefully pushing speaker wire under the carpet, and trying to make some expensive surround sound speakers work with a nearly-obsolete stereo system. I...
The pits I’m in a van, a bulletproof vest strapped tightly across my chest. Every once in a while I run my fingers across it, marveling at its lack of a steel plate in...
Mental mini-movie For some reason, the mind-movie-maker in my head has fashioned a couple of old farmers, standing together at a fenceline, chewing straw, their hands shoved deep in their overall pockets. They’re looking...
And you want to be my latex salesman Maybe as Americans were too serious about our politics. Maybe, like sport, we take sides too easily and no longer see the greater good of the...
Perspective from Pitino I’m wound so tight right now that if you flicked me in the right place, I might erupt in a Howard Dean Primal Scream. No amount of soothing talk from friends,...
In town Five years ago I sat in a one bedroom apartment on the third floor of a blue building with pink breezeways. A resevoir wrapped around my little fjord of boredom and occasionally...
On swimming and my boys If the title at all confuses you, I’d suggest reading the piece below this one before reading on. I make a lot of rash decisions in my life. There...
A Christmas Story…belated For the last few years I have written my family a story for Christmas. The intent is to keep record of the Willis family’s life from year to year. While I...
Hungry in America Or…Why I’m fat and everybody else is fatter The music rose up in a crescendo of gospel church proportions. The marketing wizards swayed in time with the fad organ. And somehow...
Bah humbug To the tune of “If I Only Had a Brain” It seems a bit belated, I prob’ly should’ve stated, I hate this vile month. From New Year’s Day to groundhog I miss...
Alright, alright, alright, I’ll admit it It hurts my Venus. It hurts Uranus. Regardless of the pain, I have to admit it. The robotic mission to Mars fascinates me. For those uneducated in my...
diiiiiis-MISSED! That is, 2003, you can go now. The throwdown at Mt. Willis went well (to a point). It ended badly, but most parties that involve that much alcohol and bad blood usually do....
This just in… 2003, the Year of My Ass, sucked. Hitler balls. That is about as profane as I like to get here on Rapid Eye Reality. Perhaps I should’ve known. January of 2003...
Save the…oh, forget it. Just steal everything If I were Christopher Moore I’d be a little on the miffed side. I wonder if he drinks Mountain Dew? Fluke is one helluva book. Forgive me,...
