When I was a kid, I hit a phase when I wanted a pen pal.

Maybe I was intrigued with the possibility of communication with a person somewhere in the wide world beyond the limits of the map dot I call home.

I was still young enough to get mail sent by someone who didn’t want my money so maybe it was the childish thrill of a letter addressed to me and hidden, like a surprise, in the mailbox.

(more…)
Advertisements

I planned to discuss Mount Rushmore in this column.

Instead, I wrote about stairs, persistence and two people I met in an old graveyard.

I realize those sentences don’t make sense so here’s a little backstory. (more…)