Robert Rummel-Hudson Archive
The end of July doesn’t mark the end of summer, especially not here in Texas. (Honestly, it feels like summer here in October. In July, it feels like Africa.) But it does feel like change to me.
I spend my time like anyone else, balanced between the banal but necessary (work, drive time, keeping up with the news so the apocalypse doesn’t take me by surprise), the personally amusing but mostly useless (I think
There’s a thing no one wants to talk about. Let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about rape culture and the disability community. The topic makes us as a society uncomfortable, and it makes us as individuals EXTREMELY
I never quite know what to say on the eve of Father’s Day. Sometimes I go for something humorous, and some years I go for whiny and indignant. (Everyone’s favorite, I’m sure.) The truth is, Father’s Day
I write so much about transitions for my daughter, but here’s a big one. This week, Schuyler takes her final exams for her junior year, and late Friday morning, she will officially become a senior in high
Last night, Schuyler had her final band concert of the year. We’ve certainly had plenty of those before, but never on the senior high school level. Lots of tearful farewells to the senior class, of course. And
I hate it when this stuff sneaks up on me. It was fairly late in the evening a few days ago. I had CNN on because the world was going nuts and I wanted to at least