I got on Facebook one day last year and noticed that an acquaintance had posted a rant about a sensitive social issue. I was a little surprised – the status update, which was sure to offend a significant portion of the population, seemed unnecessarily caustic and over-the-top.
Last July, my wife requested that we meet about our finances before the end of summer. I wasn’t particularly inspired — I don’t like to talk about finances because crunching numbers and talking investment were never my strong suit. But September was a couple of months away, so I said yes to appease her.
I did it – after four years of chugging along at my rinky-dink Blogger site, I invested some money and a lot of time to start over and build a legitimate author website. For those of you who have been keeping up with my writing, I want to give you a heads-up on some things that will change, and some things that will stay the same . . .
I have an agnostic friend named Ben who regularly peppers me with politely-antagonistic questions about my faith. For example, the other day, he asked me whether I really believed what the Bible said about Jesus’ life.
Let’s be clear about one thing from the start: I have no doubt that my dad meant well. I was 10 years old, and Dad thought it would be a great idea for us to trek out into the woods behind our house and cut down our very own Christmas tree. At first, it seemed like a splendid idea, but then we dragged home a scraggly pine tree that looked like something from a very special Christmas episode of Little House on the Prairie. Dad rigged it up onto this wooden box in the back yard and prepared to haul…
I recently wrote a post called “Three Easy Ways to Ruin a First Date,” which provided advice on how to make a first date want to run away from you and never call back. My suggestions were: 1) Propose (or at least talk about marriage enough to make yourself sound desperate); 2) Overshare negative information about your life and relationships; and/or
If my parents had owned smartphones in the 1980s, I’d probably have more photos of my childhood – but as it stands, there are about 37 of them (including school pictures). Sometimes I feel a little sorry for myself, but lately, I’ve been feeling more sorry for my own children.
If you follow this blog on Facebook, you already know that this past weekend, I had a conversation with Mrs. Saucier, the inspiring fifth-grade teacher featured in my recent post, “If Jesus Were a Fifth Grade Teacher.” Here’s the story of how it happened (from the Facebook post) . . .
I hate to admit it, but back in my single days, I unnecessarily bungled a number of first dates. And the saddest part was, I didn’t even know I was doing anything wrong.
Most of my childhood, I was raised by a working, single mother who usually couldn’t make it to daytime school events. Every once in a while though, she would slip away from work and come to school for something special. It meant the world to me when she was able to do that.
By the time I entered fifth grade, I was well-acquainted with the principal’s office. I mean, I wasn’t the kind of kid who started fires in the bathroom – I was just a helpless, talkative instigator.
I don’t have a lot of regrets from my childhood, but there’s one from fifth grade that still bothers me. I made friends with a second grader named Jennifer who rode my bus. She had a round face, a raspy voice, and a wild mop of wavy blond hair. And those eyes – they nearly disappeared when she smiled, which she did a lot – especially when she was talking to me.
One day when I was 11 years old, my mother taught me a lesson I still remember. I was loading the dishwasher, and as I placed the utensils in the basket, I had a stroke of genius. I decided to place all the spoons in one section of the basket, all the forks in another section, and so on. That way, when I unloaded the dishwasher, I wouldn’t have to organize the utensils. I could just put them in their place in the drawer.
Movie producer David Cronenberg gave an interview one time where he talked about the messed-up world of Hollywood and explained why so many celebrities are out-of-touch with reality.
I didn’t start the weekend trying to be a sorry husband and father – it came quite naturally. My wife was sick in bed with a severe cold, which was no fun for me. It meant that she expected me to take responsibility for the general well-being of her and our two toddlers. Of course, I was totally willing to do this – you know, for like 90 minutes. But then I realized I was trapped in my house and would be serving my family all day long.
Joshua Rogers 