I never saw his handwriting. I saw all of him physically, and a whole lot of his heart and soul, I think. But never his handwriting. Not a card, not a note, not a to-do list. He was careful that way, the same way
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Russell Means, Pro Se
I’m not sure Russell Means ever knew my name, even though I once strolled (quaking in my boots) into his hospital room in search of an interview. He did deign to answer a
What’s in a Name? Sometimes, Stupidity.
“Pygmy Darts” was the worst, though it made no sense. “Smelanie” was next, because I didn’t. A friend some time ago suggested I write on derogatory names, things like “redneck” and
Mourning the Lost Right to Privacy
Today was my first visit to a new dentist. The calendar said 2012, but it sure felt like 1984. As soon as I arrived, I was asked for my insurance card and my