Very casually over the phone, my friend told
me how he laid his Martin Guitar on the floor in his living room and in
a fit of frustration and rage and with the boots on his feet, smashed
his acoustic guitar into bits and pieces.
Despite the fact that I’m getting older, I still have a pretty good memory. One day last month when walking home from the corner of happy and healthy — that’s the Walgreens in Covington, Ky. — I heard someone say, “Hello, Larry.”
Keeping up with the Kardashians isn’t about reality. It’s pure
plastic, pure phony baloney. It’s rich people who have done nothing to deserve
that wealth and status and who think they have real problems and issues to deal
with. They don’t.
The first Peanuts
television special, A Charlie Brown
Christmas, had been on TV the previous Christmas and that made me even more
of a fan of the strip. I couldn’t get enough of Charlie Brown and company.
My phone rang fairly late one evening
during the summer of 2000. I was in bed, but my son was still up. On the
phone was a nurse from the nursing home in Vevay, Indiana. My mother
was staying there recuperating from knee surgery — her left knee. She
had her right one replaced a year earlier.