It was a few month back when I had my annual physical examination. After paying little regard to my health during my teens and twenties, I’ve become much more attentive since hitting the big 3-0.
Right about the time I entered my thirties I noticed I couldn’t go up and down the basketball court like I once could. An afternoon of flinging the pigskin around with the fellas left me with a sore arm the next day.
While I’m hardly fitness buff, and certainly don’t eat as well as I should, I try to offset this by making regular visits to my local “sawbones” for a comprehensive physical examination. Each year he says the same things: all my numbers are good, I need to exercise more, and take it easy on dairy and the fried foods. Aside from the occasional sinus infection every other year or so, I’m seldom under the weather. I haven’t missed a day of work for a health-related matter in years, knock on wood and praise God.
Continue reading “I’m okay, and you’re probably okay too”
It was my great pleasure to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony at our new $2 million library last week. I was far from alone, as hundreds of people from all over East Texas were on hand to see the fruits of the McMillan Foundation’s generosity. I am thrilled with how it has turned out. My family and I have stopped by regularly since it opened the following Monday and look forward to countless visits in the days, months, years, to come.
However, it’s not all roses and rainbows. Since news of this endeavor first became public several months back, there’s been more than one individual who has voice their displeasure with this project to me.
Continue reading “Our $2 million library is a bargain at any price”
For the better part of my adulthood I’ve vacillated between extremes when it comes to Valentine’s Day.
On one hand I’ve often decried the overt commercialism of the day, to dismiss the day as a wholesale invention of the greeting card industry. I’ve often been ‘that guy’ who refuses to go along with the consumerist bacchanalia to vain sentiment and maudlin displays of trite affection.
On the other hand, I’m a shameless old-school Romantic of the “sentiment by impulsive theatrics” variety. The stories of my exploits are legion. Don’t believe me?
Continue reading “A cynic rediscovers Valentine’s Day”
I go among the trees and sit still. All my stirring becomes quiet around me like circles on water. My tasks lie in their places where I left them, asleep like cattle. Then what is afraid of me comes and lives for a while in my sight. What it fears in me leaves me, and … Continue reading Communicate slowly, live a three-dimensioned life…
Last week my wife and I welcomed our fifth child into the world: “Xander” was born in the early evening hours of Jan. 30 at ETMC Henderson.
Continue reading “Having our baby in Henderson”
O you, most fearful, child of my house. O you, in whom I have aged nine years in nine months. A burden, and not a burden, But a blessing unknown. Child all of hopes, benedictions, dreams, blights. In nightmares you’ve been lost to me l o s t nightly in tear-stained sleeplessness. I am one … Continue reading Child, Roland
Today is the first moment I’ve had to stop amidst the harried hubbub of task and obligation to sit and write a few lines in observance of your birth, these two days prior.
Oh, and if you are confused: I call you “Lamb” right now because you are so quiet and serene in your conduct, save for a few grunts that sound more like bleats whenever you are hungry or need to be changed.
So, I call you “Lamb” for now. It doesn’t seem to have caught on with anyone else, but I like it… I once read that Eleanor of Aquitaine called Richard the Lionheart “Lamb” his entire life, even after he was well established as one of the great barbarians of the Crusades.
I don’t know how old you’ll be when you read this letter, but I beg your indulgence… this letter was not written to the hulking, red-headed and hairy-legged incarnation you will likely become sixteen years from now, but to the wide-eyed and fuzzy-cheeked cherub whom I can hold burrowed into my arm.
Continue reading “To my son on the day of his birth…”