Worshipping with Elvis

I knew that Elvis Presley, whose fame was built mostly on blue suede shoes, shocking dance moves, bad movies, a sexy sulk, and the drug-and-food induced glittery, sweaty end of his short tragic life, had made a few little gospel recordings, a nod to Pentecostal nostalgia. I didn’t know until today, browsing the dangerous portals…

I Survived

Some random first-world thoughts on the eve of yet another cross-country move, this time to Cancún. I haven’t written much of anything since November 8, 2017. I have been in shock, stupefied, wordless (although I have spoken and thought many passionate words about the fate of the planet, of my country, of my children and their…