Self Help

One Year Later

 

I thought I knew the day I quit smoking. “September, 21 2012.” I remember the things that happened that day. The Carolina Panthers lost on the road to a 50-yard hail mary thrown by that stupid Matt Ryan and the United States Ryder Cup team lost a huge lead to Europe at home. It’s been dubbed, “The Miracle at Medinah.” Not smoking for an entire day was “The Miracle on Felix Street.” I didn’t sit down. I paced around my living room all day. I said to myself, “If I don’t smoke a cigarette today, I’ll never smoke again.” I didn’t. And I never have since. I discovered I had the date of those events wrong. For six years, I’ve been donning my “Another Year without Cigarettes” party hat nine days early. September 30th, 2012 is my official quit date. But that is not the point. The point is, I have never smoked again.

Today, I’ve gone 365 days without consuming alcohol. Well, there’s a trace amount found in kombucha. The stupid state of North Carolina requires ID to purchase “Gingerade” because of it. I drink six ounces of kombucha a day. That amount of alcohol couldn’t knock a no-see-um on its ass. Continue reading “One Year Later”

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Charleston, Humor

Beep

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Formerly a quiet field of grass

Beep, beep, beep. They are building a 300-unit apartment complex outside my apartment window. Every piece of heavy equipment must beep. In the 90’s, they only used to beep when they went backwards. But now, some of them beep when they go backwards and forwards, side to side. Continue reading “Beep”

Humor

Don’t Hate Carrots

Hop T. Hare loves baloney, but all he was allowed to eat was carrots. Hop was so sick of carrots. Once, he ate so many carrots, he turned orange. 

One day, Hop was playing in a yard and he saw an open window. Normally, Rabbits don’t sneak into Human houses, but Hop had refused to eat his breakfast carrots this morning and he was starving. Hop, against all his Rabbit judgement, jumped through the window and went to the kitchen. Continue reading “Don’t Hate Carrots”

Charleston, Humor

The Man with the Onion

20140519-onion-guide-onion4-thumb-610x406-401941Today, I saw a man carrying an onion. I was heading north on Highway 17 and he was walking along Houston Northcutt boulevard in Mount Pleasant, South Carolina. I was first at the red light (yes!) and he crossed in front of me, walking his red bicycle. His onion was yellow. He was carrying it like carrying an onion was a normal act. The onion was in his right hand; throwable, if he wanted. Continue reading “The Man with the Onion”

Charleston, Christmas, Humor

So This is Christmas

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And what have you done, Yoko?

I wouldn’t say it’s my “favorite” time of year only because a seventy-five degree day in April is pretty awesome; but I do enjoy Christmastime. I realize that I have neglected these pages the last few months, and for that I am sorry. No excuses. I do appreciate those who have enjoyed and supported this blog over the years. My most popular work by far is pieces about the holidays, so I would be remiss if I didn’t disappoint you one more time before 2019 with some thoughts on Christmas. Continue reading “So This is Christmas”

Humor

Santa is Finished: Let’s give the Big Man the Boot

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For a dude that’s been around for a few hundred years, he hasn’t done much. Continue reading “Santa is Finished: Let’s give the Big Man the Boot”

Humor

Devils and Details: America’s Knitting Underbelly

A growing obsession overlooked by the mainstream is plaguing suburbia at an cat-wearing-sweater--large-msg-130592658314alarming rate: knitting. I guess it begins harmlessly enough, darning a sock when nobody’s there like Eleanor Rigby. But then it grows into a debilitating illness. Take for instance Deloris Clark. She’s 52 and her cats have a bigger wardrobe than most American children. Or take Norris Berkowitz who is allergic to wool but can’t stop knitting. His hands and face swell up every day beyond the point of recognition. These are just a few of the stories I uncovered as I delved deeper into the corrosive world that is knitting. It’s not just for your Granny anymore.

Continue reading “Devils and Details: America’s Knitting Underbelly”