So, what’s this blog about? It is a record of the events in my life that make me stop and ask, “really?” And then drive me forward.
It’s about the things that have taught me to be passionate; books, music, poetry.
It’s about my passions; kids, critters, history, politics (centrist with liberal leanings), education, writing, and music. Friends and coworkers. There’ll probably be mention of the Red Sox.
There is a somewhat specific cast of characters. My kids: Jamie, Nick, Chris, and Ian. My grandchildren: Ryan, Joshua, Haliey, Elizabeth, Matthew, and Lana. Yes, I have permission to use names. My parrots: Strider, Joe-joe, Plato, Jade, Jazz. My horse, Saiga, who passed away in July at the age of 30. The chickens, most notably, Quinn, the rogue rooster, died on the same day Osama bin Laden was killed, we all thought it was poetic. I didn’t ask any of them for permission. And the, mostly feral, cats that live in the barn. My gadgets are characters (if only to drag others kicking and screaming into the 21st century); the Zune, Kindle, Evo, Mac, iPad, and sometimes Facebook and Twitter. The disease that lurks in the shadows of my world every day, Rheumatoid Arthritis, is also a character that influences me.
Periodically, I rant about other family members; S1 and her daughter, there’s also S2, and B1. There are stories to be told about my Dad, and Nana and how they instilled in me a sense of Irish-ness, a sense of self.
It’s also about being born and raised in (metro) Boston, Massachusetts and living in the capital of the Confederacy, (metro) Richmond, Virginia. I’m a Boston-Yankee in Jefferson Davis’ court. I’m a stranger in a strange land.
Once upon a time, I wanted to write fiction. But the stories that are my world are vivid and sometimes so outrageous that I find myself asking, who needs fiction? I write about the things that would keep me from writing and that drive me forward.
The blog is the commentary, my perspective, on the mad world in which I—we—live.
