The Kung Fu Grip of Love

The Kung Fu Grip of Love

Wuv. Twoo wuv.  ‘Tis a many-splendored thing. It makes the world go ’round. It’s more than just a game for two. Love, actually, is all these things, along with an ooey-gooey host of 70s lite rock clichés. Naturally, or supernaturally, the...
The Kung Fu Grip of Love

Merry C-Word!

I hate the holiday season. Wait, where did my ironic quote marks go? Okay, found ’em: I hate the “holiday season.” Back in the olden days of the early 1970s, the holiday season was a catchall phrase denoting Thanksgiving, Christmas and New...
The Kung Fu Grip of Love

Reuniting and I Feel So-So

Age is relative. And not just in the Einsteinian astronaut-traveling-at-near-light-speed-returns-home-to-find-his-twin-brother-is-now-his-grandpa way. For example, given predicted advances in robotics and super glue, I’m probably only one-third of the way...
The Kung Fu Grip of Love

Gird Thy Loins in Polyester

It’s September in Texas. That special time of year when everyone undergoes mass hypnosis to convince themselves that any temperature under 89 degrees Fahrenheit qualifies as autumnal, and high school football erupts across the Texas plains. Ah, Texas football....
The Kung Fu Grip of Love

The Sound of Schoolishness

It always started just after the Fourth of July. The incessant thrum-thrum-thrumming of what are correctly termed cicadas, but what my family, in honor of John the Baptist, called locusts. (Although we never ate them with honey. Or without.) “Hear that?”...