Hardly anything is simple anymore. Children’s car seats now have expiration dates. Tiny screens are here to stay, but they anesthetize little brains. How long is too long? And, panning the camera for a global look, our climate is, like parents right now, under duress. Continue reading
Yes, Mom, I know it’s possible that I’ve written this letter only for myself—a hopeful, neurotic middle-aged man—and that you may be nothing more than the bone and cinder your children buried in June of 1998. But I can’t help hoping that existence is as abiding as your Christmas cactus and as fair as your great-grandson Cole. Continue reading
You may have noticed that A Napper’s Companion has seen less activity than usual over the last eighteen months. I’ve been writing a book, the first draft of which is finally complete. The topic of my pile of 83,000 words is religious doubt and hope. Continue reading
A Napper's Companion 