For the past several months, I’ve been spending my mornings and late nights in the summer of 1976.
I’ve walked railroad tracks with an eleven-year-old boy named Birdy, met people I won’t soon forget, and discovered that some stories don’t simply get written—they slowly reveal themselves.
There are still edits ahead, but if all goes according to plan, BIRDY will be released this December.
I won’t say much about it just yet.
Only this…
It’s a story about childhood. About friendship. About the things we carry. About the people who teach us to be brave. And about discovering that sometimes the hardest journey isn’t finding somewhere else… it’s finding your way home.
I hope, before long, you’ll get to meet Birdy.
I have a feeling you’ll remember him for a very long time.
Prompt: “That’s how we ended up spending the night in jail.”
150 words.
We parked at the Honobia Community Park in Honobia, along the Little River in southeast Oklahoma. We set the five hound dogs loose and traveled north. The dogs picked up the scent. They moved fast through the dense forest, and we, racing behind, barely kept up. After thirty minutes, the dogs’ baying told us they had somehow managed to bring our prey to a halt, either trapped or treed. Coming into a small clearing, the muddy remains of an old, dried-up cow pond at its center, we saw him. He was furious and bellowing, stuck in the mud. At every attempt to free himself, he became more and more bogged down. We called the newspaper and reported it to the authorities, and that’s how we ended up in jail. We did not know that in Honobia, Oklahoma, it is, in fact, illegal to harass Bigfoot.
If you’ve spent any time looking at the photos I post, you know I enjoy cooking, and that what I cook isn’t always the healthiest choice. (See example one, hamburger wrapped in bacon… dang, that was tasty!) It used to be that this wasn’t a problem. I had the metabolism and exercise to counteract any negative effects. Now, at 60, apparently not so much. I got my annual blood work done last week. High cholesterol and pre-diabetes. I’m already on blood pressure medicine. (I’m sure most of you just had to look at me and knew this without the blood test.) Folks, I want at least another 25 good years, so it’s time to make some changes. I’m going to keep cooking and keep eating, but I’m on a mission to learn how to make the very best healthy foods. (The picture below was the first attempt: quinoa instead of rice, cornstarch instead of flour, a tablespoon of olive oil instead of deep frying, honey instead of sugar, broccoli instead of no vegetables at all.) I’ve ordered a new cookbook and will be exploring various spices to elevate my cooking. If you’ve got recipes, please share them. I’d love to add them to my repertoire. If you invite me over or bring me food, please, make it healthy. If you see me reaching for the donut, slap my hand. Thanks.
The streets were filled And the bodies lay for three and a half days
The celebration continued And the woman screamed
We try to forget Somewhere behind the gold rivers And the truth bleeds all around us
The looking glass hides in the dim mirror And we take another sip
I’ll watch this side of Eden
I’ll watch this side of the Promised Land
I’ll watch and the lies unfold and the hate breathes and you are no more and the paints dried and the skin peeled and the left hand watched as the right hand withered
and
and
I was on my way home from work. Driving down Randolph. A squirrel… a damn squirrel ran in front of me. I thought I missed it. Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw it… there… on the curb. Damn.
Today, it was still there. It was beginning to bloat. I’m sorry.
The article defines the issue: “This is ‘purpose anxiety’ — the gnawing sense that one’s life should have an overarching purpose, but it’s unclear how to discover it.” It then goes on to further explore the issue and point to possible solutions. However, in my opinion, the article clearly identifies the root cause, without noting any correlation to the problem.
Religion, for instance, often offered purpose and meaning to believers. But those who identify as religious has dropped significantly over the years (although that appears to be leveling off recently according to a 2025 survey by the Pew Research Center).
What do the numbers show?
I am smart enough to know that anxiety and depression have other causes and that there are multiple variables involved. That said, I think it would be quite interesting to see the anxiety/depression numbers for those who have found their purpose in God.
Vision is entirely a creative faculty: it uses the body and the mind as the navigator uses his instruments. Open and alert, it matters little whether one finds a supposed short cut to the Indies-or discovers a new world. Everything is begging to be discovered, not accidentally, but intuitively. Seeking intuitively, one’s destination is never in a beyond of time or space but always here and now. If we are always arriving and departing, it is also true that we are eternally anchored. One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things. Which is to say that there are no limits to vision. Similarly, there are no limits to paradise. Any paradise worth the name can sustain all the flaws in creation and remain undiminished, untarnished.
Henry Miller / Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch
The list: USA, Italy, Spain, France, Ireland, Norway, Japan. Not an extensive list, but respectable. I still hope to add at least India to it.
Now, don’t think I’m slipping over the edge here. Just having a think is all…
In the places I’ve visited and the resources required to experience them, have any of them made me happier/a better person/more wise/etc/etc/etc, than 2426 Sherwood Drive with The Queen in my lap and a good book in my hands? The short answer: no.
To see the beauty of God’s creation and those things created by His creation is a gift and a delight. To have walked through the halls of the Sistine Chapel, to have gazed out over the Grand Canyon, to have been a total tourist and ridden the elevator to the top of Tokyo Tower—I know that I am blessed (and spoiled) to have had these opportunities. I would not trade the experiences, but to write sermons and preach the Gospel, sit with friends and play Uno, write silly blog posts, are (I was going to say “equally” as enjoyable, but..) far more enjoyable and life giving/experiencing.
My friend, Mr. Miller, said, One’s destination is never in a beyond of time or space but always here and now. If we are always arriving and departing, it is also true that we are eternally anchored. One’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things.
In this life, your destination is where you are at this very moment. You can choose the place where you will experience those moments, but the place is not your life. The place is the backdrop.
The end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every deed into judgment, with every secret thing, whether good or evil.
Candle in a Cave 