A scrim. It’s a theatrical device. Essentially a translucent piece of fabric, it’s usually employed to evoke specific feelings in the audience. Fog perhaps. A scene illumined by odd light and shadow. The dead of night. Times past. My memory works like a scrim. Things happened to me behind it.Continue Reading
Dear Cooper: As a guide son, you are flawless, that requisite dose of captivating cuteness mixed with a heaping helping of “I know exactly how to get you to do whatever I want.” Even if it is rock you for an hour (me) or carry you around in circles untilContinue Reading
Few things make me more squeamish than having conversations about anything to do with SEX with either of my parents. I don’t want to hear about their sex life. I do not care to share a general outline or any details of mine and MTM’s time between the sheets. OrContinue Reading
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