Each day the sun rises. Each day hope escapes to be chased and sought after as a balm for the inequities we suffer from those we trusted and no longer accept as just and honest.
As we all know, every profession has its own particular vocabulary or jargon. While jargon facilitates communication in the workplace, it often confuses the hell out of the uninitiated outsider.
It’s May, and football is already prepared to bloom into the American psyche like the all-consuming pastime (obsession) that it is.
The 2015 NFL Draft is over, the future is being predicted in dark corners across the country and young men, mostly high school students, are practicing by pummeling into each other for the next spot in line to play at schools like LSU, University of Oregon, Ohio State, and then, maybe, on to play in the NFL.
I was motoring westbound on Interstate 10 between Gonzales and Port Allen when it hit me: I had forgotten my iPhone! The horror. My hands started to sweat as I gripped the steering wheel and fought the looming panic attack with slow, deep breaths.
It’s that time of year. I’ll admit that I forget just about every time too.
Though my mother and I are miles apart, I sometimes think that we have gotten closer in a lot of ways. She’s always there for me on the phone when I needed a pick-me-up, when I need someone to talk to and when I have exciting news.