Monday, March 23, 2009


Goodwill Hunter (a mini saga of exactly 50 words)

I zoom in on this week’s half-price tag color. Red. My target: the dress rack, fully stocked. Honing in with inbred bargain instinct, I locate a retro-floral Betsy Johnson. Medium. Red tag. Bill bags it for $3.50. Later, my Neiman’s friend inquires. “Goodwill,” I boast. “They’ve got killer deals.”

Thursday, March 12, 2009

A Few Good Pens

Just like Dawson in A Few Good Men learns that he doesn't need to wear a badge on his arm to have honor, so too have I learned that I do not need an external ornament to obtain honor. In fact, I resist honor from anyone in the first place. That's where people go wrong...when they start convincing themselves that they deserve something that cannot be obtained. True honor is momentary and unexpected. It's more than a salute, but less than worship. It is impossible to live up to, and as soon as I start to believe that I deserve honor, or anything else to feed my ego for that matter, I will be on a crash-course with disappointment.

No, I don't need a badge or a salute, but what I do need is a few good moments to put down a few good words. I need a few good notepads and a wooden box filled with a few good pens.