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

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

This article in Volume One Magazine includes a photo of me on the tire swing we hung for my daughter and another of me looking off into the distance beside…View post