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Some of my stories write themselves. Others are more like trying to climb a Colorado “Fourteener”. This one in particular has taken two weeks to come together. It’s not an overly complicated narrative but it penetrates deep into one of the more painful and special journeys I have ever shared. Brad and I and about 1,200 other undergraduate students shared our college years in the late 60’s at Phillips University. I was from Colorado and Brad from Kansas. We moved in similar circles. We shared a number of common friends and played a lot of intramurals against each other. Brad…

I have a new roommate. “Estralla” has taken up residence at our home. We are part of the emerging demographic that welcomes 30–something young men into our basement (and his dog). Zach, our first grandson has become the third member of our household for the time being. It’s a win—win for all of us. He runs his very successful handyman business from here. If we were an assisted living home Zach would be the maintenance man, part time cook, entertainment director and human duct tape. Depending on his day’s work sometimes Estralla hangs out with us. She is a delight.…

In 1981 I became the Assistant Minister at Central Christian Church in Pueblo. Thus began another experience of doing something I said I would never do. I backed into ministry, sort of an experiment in looking for a loophole. People often ask me how did you choose to become a pastor? My simple answer is— it’s sort of like the sculptor who is asked how he is going to carve an elephant out of a block of marble. “I just chip away everything that does not look like an elephant and what is left is an elephant”. When I was…

Sometime in the early 80’s I discovered the joy of walking. I began a regimen of daily walks that were usually about 4-6 miles. When we moved to the San Luis Valley in 1986 we lived on an acreage west of town. We soon found a four—mile walk from our home to the Rio Grande River that took us and our amazing dog Smiley there and back. For every mile I did Smiley would run two. I logged the walks on a monthly basis figuring I walked about 80 miles a month on that route, through all four seasons. That’s…

You fail Boomer 101 if you can not name both the actor and the movie that made that line famous—Paul Newman “Cool Hand Luke” 1967. I must have heard and used that reference more times than I can count. Now to an encounter in a barber shop in Montreal. My first memories of a striped barber pole goes back to “Slicks” barber shop in the basement of the Star Journal and Chieftain newspaper in Pueblo. It was a man’s world. Three chairs, the smells of smell—good stuff, and not a girl in sight. I was on my way to manhood.…

Well, I am settling in after an 8000 mile 19 state trek. I found the logistics of trying to write while dealing with the daily moving too much to take on. I certainly have enough stories to keep me going for a few weeks. Today I want to talk about stepping on the soil of the state of Maine for our 50th state in 41 years of travel together. Truly, I had never heard of Eastport before Holland American highlighted it as our next to last stop on our journey through the Maritime Islands of Canada, and then back to…

I am nearly half way through my 36 day road trip and I think it is time to check in. I am writing from upstate New York where we have enjoyed a joyous time in New England. Truly, I had no idea how much I would enjoy this part of the world. Today we are treated to a VIP experience at the Saratoga Race Track, courtesy of our son in—law Dale. Tomorrow we get to worship with a former organist at South Broadway CC, who is the music director at St Peter’s in Albany. Can’t wait to see Dan again.…

Today I was telling a friend about when I used to play golf. We sold most of my golf clubs last week as they were just taking up space. Golf has been a casualty of my Long Covid. I was never very good but I really enjoyed the time with friends and family, and the beauty of the golf courses. Anyone who has played a lot of golf will tell you on most any round you will hit a shot or two that look like you should be playing pro. The other 98… well not so much. Those magic moments…

I have a default restaurant that is 11 minutes from my place. We discovered it three Christmas eves ago. We established a tradition that after a Christmas Eve service we eat Asian food. We were driving back from Greeley with our grandson Zach, headed for PF Chang’s. This was our homage to “A Christmas Story” and we usually had the place to ourselves. We get there and the wait was one hour. Plan B. Hello Google—Zach tells us about one just up the road in a strip mall. We get there and we were the only ones in the place.…

This past week I have been a spider magnet. Little red ones, furry black ones, grey long legged ones walking on my dash board, to mention a few. Maybe it is my emerging age, or my own witness to the sacred nature of life, but I would rather relocate a spider or step over it than smash it. I am neither a pacifist nor an entomologist. As I have shared numerous times I grew up on the edge of the desert. I remember the first time I encountered a tarantula. To a seven year—old, a four inch spider looked something…