For my twentieth Fathers Day, I don’t need much. But here are a few things I really want.
Every year at Christmas, I wait for a certain feeling to reach me. And at some point, it always does.
You have a better chance of getting where you want to go by starting out lost and heading in the wrong direction than you do by just standing still.
In 1987, my parents sent me to a teen psychologist. Here's how that encounter went.
As parents, we don't really create our children. We mostly try to keep them afloat.
Walking 6,000 miles with Bo has taught me at least a couple of things.
Insights from my decade of experience as a player in the old-guy indoor soccer league.
What I learned from making a (slight) menace of myself on the ski slopes--and over cheese fries.
As our oldest daughter prepares for college, I'm thinking back on stories from my own dorm-life days.
One of my daughters recently asked why I "always" wink at her. The answer has to do with silent connections formed in my distant past.