Everyone needs clean water. And we all expect to get clean water, especially if you are a soldier and approach a “water buffalo” that has the word “potable” clearly stamped on the side. (A water buffalo is just a big portable metal tank with clean drinking water.) Usually. They give soldiers and Boy Scouts (or … Continue reading Clean Water
Learning To See Clearly
Photo by freestocks on Unsplash We’re at a little church that we’ve visited several times lately. It’s just a big country church with good, friendly people. Nothing fake here. There is one problem, however. And I hate to bring it up. But … There are pieces of artwork on either side of the front wall, on both … Continue reading Learning To See Clearly
Dad’s Voice
"Mom, Mom. He sounds just like John Wayne!” Charlene, a girl from high school with whom I was visiting, enthusiastically told her mother what she thought about my father’s voice. Dad was there at her house to pick me up because, for some reason, I was without transportation. My dads voice had always been deep … Continue reading Dad’s Voice
Mustache of Shame
I was a grown man before I decided to shave off that awful mustache. And, I’ve never looked back. The impetus for change? A girl. A stunning and multi-lingual college-age Russian who was part of a group of other college girls assigned as translators for a motley crew of Americans in northern Russia. Here’s how … Continue reading Mustache of Shame
Squirrels, Horses, and Marriage Proposals
Before it was a park in the middle of the now “heavily populated” Satsuma, Alabama, under a canopy of oaks and home to a few billion squirrels, there stood a small wood-framed house with a detached garage, or as I liked to remember it — our horse barn. We didn’t have horses. But we did have a … Continue reading Squirrels, Horses, and Marriage Proposals
Fear Selling
Did I just use a big, hairy spider to induce you to read my article about fear? Yes. Yes, I did. A friend invited my wife and me out to supper once. I thought it strange that there were about 20 other couples there also. Turns out, he had reserved part of the restaurant to … Continue reading Fear Selling
Coinage from Heaven
I’m six years old. And like normal six-year-olds, I am fidgety, shifting my little body back and forth in a wooden church pew in a community called Plateau, which, by the way, most people mispronounce. I’m clutching coins in my hands. They’re mostly pennies, a few nickels, and some dimes. But, no quarters. I would … Continue reading Coinage from Heaven
The Reading Lessons
Photo from the author's personal files When they got married in 1903, in Alabama, my paternal grandfather (Ollie Manning) could not read. I am sure this was common in this area of Alabama in the early twentieth century. Probably common to lots of people during this time. My grandfather was a carpenter, so he could … Continue reading The Reading Lessons
A Love Story in Winter
I twirled her around a few times while the soft moonlight filtered and fractured its way through the frozen branches of a row of nearby birch trees. It was this magical moment that one simply cannot replicate in the warm and mostly snow-less climate of central Arkansas. But I was in Russia and for me, … Continue reading A Love Story in Winter
Happy Paternal Unit Day
As a new paternal unit, I pondered what I wanted to be called by our children. For some reason, I wanted them to call me Papa. I’m not sure why. Maybe because that's what their mother had always called her paternal unit in Russia where she was born and raised. Papa. I liked the sound … Continue reading Happy Paternal Unit Day
The Power of a Wrong Word
I’m on a bus in northern Russia. Our small group consisted of my future mother-in-law, a friend named George, and me. We were headed somewhere in town. My Russian skills then, like now, were nonexistent, but I want to tell my mother-in-law something. I needed to tell her the one thing that all women worldwide … Continue reading The Power of a Wrong Word
Invasive Plants and Future
I ran across this little popcorn tree a few days ago. As strange as this may sound, I miss them. (Yes, I do know that they are an invasive species, but go with me here.) This one is growing in a field next to our apartment complex. For it to be here, there must have … Continue reading Invasive Plants and Future
My brother’s bike
A Kawasaki 900. It was probably a 1988 or 1989 model. I don’t remember, but it was a beautiful bike. Dark blue and way too much power for a teenager to handle. Heck, my Suzuki 650 that I bought four or five years later in Montgomery was way too much for me to handle — but I … Continue reading My brother’s bike
The “R” Question
I’m sitting in a barbershop in Northwest Arkansas probably 15 years ago when the obligatory barber conversation started: Me: “Just give me a low fade, kinda like a national guard cut.” Barber: “Oh, are you retired?” I frown and stay silent for a minute. Because, well, ‘one of these things is not like the other.’ … Continue reading The “R” Question
Portland in October
As a Trial Defense Attorney for the Army Reserve, I attended my share of conferences. This one was in Portland. Oregon. Now, I had wanted to take along my good camera, but the battery was dead and I couldn’t find the battery charger. So, I said to my wife, “Wife, I’m not going to bother … Continue reading Portland in October
Toxic Shame and You Can Too
It’s around noon on a Sunday. I’m 14 years old, sitting in my dad's Chevrolet work truck, which (and I don’t mean to brag too much here) is equipped with some fancy modern technology that I’m currently using. An 8-track tape player. Don’t be jealous. The speakers are vibrating with the comedic genius of a … Continue reading Toxic Shame and You Can Too
Another Southern Thing
Taylorsville, Mississippi: It’s a tiny place in South Mississippi. A guy in a blue Chevrolet pick-up truck drives past me, raises his hand on the steering wheel, and waves as if he knows me. I don’t know him, but I wave back. I’m pretty sure that if I tried that in New York City I’d … Continue reading Another Southern Thing
The Quitting Card
I was nine years old the first time I quit. The reason that I left Little League football was not that I didn’t want to play. I did. I mean, I had the usual football heroes like Roger Staubach and Archie Manning which likely reflects my age and NFL geographical viewing area more than anything … Continue reading The Quitting Card