I’ve Seen My Lifetime Disintegrate Before My Eyes

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I’ve seen my lifetime disintegrate before my eyes.

Do you have a recurring dream that you just can’t understand? No, I’m not talking about the one where you realize the final exam is today and you haven’t cracked open the textbook. Nor am I talking about the one where the giant ape is slowly chasing you, but try as you might, you just can’t run.

Those are typical anxiety dreams. They have nothing to do with final exams or giant apes. They’re more likely related to something in your daily life (usually work or some other stress-inducing environment).

Here’s the kind of dream I’m talking about: it involves a familiar landscape, maybe current, maybe from your past. It’s “familiar” in the sense that it evokes the real thing except it’sContinue Reading “I’ve Seen My Lifetime Disintegrate Before My Eyes”

You Can’t Go Home Again… Or Can You?

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20160806_130542“δὶς ἐς τὸν αὐτὸν ποταμὸν οὐκ ἂν ἐμβαίης.”

Heraclitus of Ephesus (535 BC – 475 BC) said this. He’s also the guy who introduced the term “Logos,” meaning “order” and “knowledge.” It’s more commonly referred to as “logic” and, together with Ethos and Pathos, represents one of the three modes of persuasion identified by Aristotle in Rhetoric (350 BC).

Oh, yeah, if you’re like me and can’t read Greek, Heraclitus’s quote translates to: “You could not step twice into the same river.” And therein lies our tale.

Oddly, I found inspiration for this Commentary while researching for my upcoming book Continue Reading “You Can’t Go Home Again… Or Can You?”

The Miracle of Limestone Hill

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To anyone born and raised in Lackawanna, the stern threat, “You better behave or I’ll send you to Father Baker’s” remains forever burned into one’s ears. It turns out, IMG_2524_OLV_Dome_300chances are that same phrase remains forever burned in the ears of a child raised by someone born in Lackawanna. Like mine.

I can definitely see my grandmother shouting this phrase at my uncles when they were kids. The effect was no doubt the same on them as it was on me when my mother tried using it. Actually, it probably wasn’t the same. By the time I was old enough to realize the truth behind “Father Baker’s,” it looked just like the school it was. The orphanage of my uncles’ youth had been torn down before I was born.

To me, though, Father Baker’s wasn’t the school, it was the church and the amazing story Continue Reading “The Miracle of Limestone Hill”

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