reflections

  • The Man Behind the Microphone

    I’ve spent most of my life behind microphones and in front of cameras. In many ways, it is where I feel most comfortable because it was what I was trained to do. Broadcasting. Debate. Theater. Public speaking. Years of learning timing, rhythm, presence, and how to hold the attention of a room. I actually prefer…

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  • Mother’s Day

    Mother’s Day

    Life with my mother comes back in flashes now. It is funny how differently you see things as an adult than you did as a child. I see her more human now than I ever did before. I see the other side of the story that children are often too young to understand. I understand…

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  • Five in the Morning

    Five in the Morning

    I sit on the edge of the bed at 4:30 in the morning and think about all of the fractures in a life. There is something about this hour that strips away distraction. The world is quiet enough that truth begins rising to the surface whether you want it to or not. I think about…

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  • Crazy

    Crazy

    Crazy will always be one of my favorite books I’ve written. First of all, how it was written is different than anything else I have ever done. In 2006, I was personally asked to come to an old truck stop restaurant on Old Route 66. The Tri County Truck Stop in Villa Ridge, Missouri. They…

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  • A Haunting Disease

    A Haunting Disease

    I heard a quote once that described a haunted house as one that had gone insane. That made a strange kind of sense to me. The idea that a house could harbor something hidden inside it, a kind of internal system that carries something through its walls and floors like a disease. That is what…

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  • Thirty Eight Seconds

    Thirty Eight Seconds

    I don’t talk about this very often. It’s not because I’m trying to keep it private. It’s just one of those things that doesn’t come up in normal conversation, and honestly, I’ve never felt the need to turn it into something bigger than what it was. I was on the operating table when I died.…

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  • I Was Here

    I Was Here

    Someday the world will wake up and I will no longer be here. Morning will come the way it always does. Coffee will be made. People will go to work. The quiet machinery of daily life will keep moving forward without noticing that one more voice has gone silent. That is the simple truth of…

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  • A Moment for Conscience

    A Moment for Conscience

    I waited until Christmas was over to say this, because some things need room and the right moment to be said. As a son, a father, and a grandfather, I have been sitting with what has unfolded over these past weeks. The continued revelations surrounding the Epstein case, and the effort to minimize or obscure…

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  • Why I Write

    Why I Write

    Why do I write is a question I get from time to time. Most people assume it is for money. It is not. Writing has never been a good way to make money anyway, and I already have what I need in this life. I am grateful for that. I am not chasing more. Some…

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  • Meet Me in St. Louis

    Meet Me in St. Louis

    Every year, for as long as I can remember, I watched Meet Me in St. Louis with my mom. Every Christmas. That was our tradition. She loved that movie. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was teaching me something. About music. About warmth. About how certain stories quietly become part of who…

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