November 29, 2022 Lessons linger from a first-grade teacher Among my father’s keepsakes is a letter written many years ago by Lottie Pickerl. Mrs. Pickerl had been my first-grade teacher at German Township…
November 28, 2022 My Christmas spirit comes from the heart, not from gifts and artificial trees Tis the season! Or maybe, based on advertising and a local radio station broadcasting Christmas music at the beginning of November, we are already…
November 25, 2022 Moor or less: It’s great to be a guy (and other titles) on Thanksgiving “It must be great being a man during Thanksgiving,” my wife grumbled while preparing The Big Meal. Well, yes, it is, I mouthed to…
November 23, 2022 Won’t worry about what I don’t know Every once in a while, I marvel at the miracles that occur daily in the life of a human being. Whether you believe that…
November 23, 2022 Searching for something in my sleep One of the last conversations I had with my old friend Mike was about dreams. It came as little surprise to me that our…
November 21, 2022 Where am I? Maybe Gilmer Park once again I have been having a difficult time knowing where I stand in the world today. I do not mean that in a metaphysical sense. …
November 19, 2022 A Case for Handwriting and the Written Word As someone who was born in ancient times (1957), I grew up with reverent regard for the written word. In my elementary school years,…
November 18, 2022 Moor or Less: Of hamlets and Harland Sanders off I-75 On our recent trip to Florida (before the bombardment of snow), I didn’t get to drive much. I couldn’t complain. We were traveling with…
November 18, 2022 Age really is just a number Quite a few years ago, I was at a community prayer breakfast and happened to be seated next to the legendary Notre Dame coach…
November 14, 2022 Moor or less: A car can be a treasure trove of … well, stuff My wife cleaned out her car the other day. Bravo, I said. But then she started glaring over at my baby — my 2005…
November 14, 2022 Here are some of my mid-term musings Recent election cycles are like lingering hangovers. Between the prolonged vote counting and political pundit post-mortems, the discomfort goes on and on and on….
November 12, 2022 OK, I admit that I’ve become a winter sissy Former Notre Dame football coach Lou Holtz knew how to weave a folksy tale and use a pithy phrase. “Act like you’ve been there…
November 7, 2022 Here I am, horking up another essay I have a fair idea how I became an expert on bad writing. My first full-time job as a grownup in 1976 paid me…
November 6, 2022 Moor or Less: Well, shoot, we tried to help I didn’t glimpse any shotgun barrels aimed our way but I certainly saw the sign beyond a vast pile of hurricane debris outside the…
November 2, 2022 One if by land, two if by sea In my glum moments, I have found a new worry. I had made peace with the likelihood that, within five years, my neighbors will…
October 29, 2022 Another day in paradise, cold or otherwise One of my guilty pleasures in retirement is reading a good book. I find myself especially drawn to historical fiction and mystery novels. In…
October 28, 2022 An ode to October before it leaves us Dear October, I look around at your grandeur and suddenly feel underdressed. Your colors dazzle; regal reds, golden golds, and pumpkin orange punctuate the…
October 28, 2022 Moor or less: Of moms, grandkids and, yep, colonoscopies I sat around with two buddies the other day and instead of discussing our aches and pains, our lousy golf swings and our wives’…
October 28, 2022 After plenty of bike breakdowns, my ride-to-work venture finally caught some momentum Certainly (sarcasm alert!) regular Moor and More readers are waiting anxiously for a post mortem on my 2022 bicycle commute-to-work routine. By the time…
October 28, 2022 Life is everything it seems at 70 I’m learning truth at 70 That life is meant for you and me Not only for those who we can see who just look…