When it’s time to renew your license, if you’re anything like me, you make an effort to look somewhat presentable: freshly coiffed hair, careful makeup, favorite top with a flattering neckline...all neatly in place, and with the self assuredness of looking reasonably attractive, you stand against the wall, the DMV worker steps behind the camera
I'm Just Saying
As I celebrate yet another trip around the sun in the next week, it is my hope that, if nothing else, I’ve picked up various scraps of wisdom that is supposedly the trade-off for crows feet and that one, odd hair that...
So there you are, sitting around in your underwear, watching the tube and discussing why anyone would be nuts enough to appear on ‘Naked and Afraid,’ when they receive no monetary compensation whatsoever (I know, right?), and the phone rings with an offer to reappear on a sitcom you did twenty years ago.
As my friend, Robbie, pointed out during my 10 day jaunt to Los Angeles, this was one of the very few times in life I could appropriately use the phrase, “Meanwhile, back at the ranch...” without being decried as a complete literary hack.
To reply to concerned and well-meaning friends that have bid me adieu from the Carolinas as I headed back west to California, I am aware of the irony that I sound very much like Mitt Romney who, under attack from the left in regards to those businesses who had robbed pensions and laid off thousands while CEOs escaped with ‘golden parachutes,’ de
So how does it feel to be going back to Hollywood?” That’s what I’ve been gently asked of late, by friends (well, when you live in a town of 2,000, pretty much everyone is your friend) and waitresses, the guys at the feed store and fellow protestors at our local demonstration against Duke Energy.
How I miss my late neighbor during times like these.
It was generally around this time of year, when the peaches had been harvested from the surrounding orchards, that bears would come down from Glassy Mountain to, I suppose, “see what they could see.”
If there’s one man who was appreciative of the story this week about the wealthy American dentist, Walter James Palmer, who, after spending tens of thousands of dollars to lure a cherished, collared and protected lion name Cecil out into the open in order to shoot, stalk, and finally kill and behead the animal, it’s Bill Cosby.
It’s called fomentation,” an old friend of mine I hadn’t seen in ages shared from the driver’s side of his SUV, when I remarked that he hadn’t aged a day in the ten years I’d known him, “I do it every morning and I swear it keeps me feeling great!”
You know that feeling when it’s the end of a long, hot, summer day and you’re sitting around in your underwear (and to the neighbor who dropped by to generously share their garden zukes, yes, I realize you can’t unsee what you saw but you should have called first), opening a cold one, about to yell at House Hunters and suddenly your healthy, you