This one makes me feel bad.  My parents are very private folks.  The fact that I write about them is a big presumption on my part.  Tonight my Mom called…View post

On page 307.  Should be Buster Keaton, not Harold Lloyd.  I found this one myself…after the book was in print, unfortunately.

A reader named Lisa has found an oops! in Coop.  On page 186 I write of my father driving east on I-94 to St. Paul, Minnesota, which is tough to…View post

Twice today. Early in the morning here. Near the noon hour here.

For the next couple of days, I’ll be guest blogging over here.  Today features a photo of a bloody finger.