I’m a non-believer who believers in believers.  That means I have to rely on magic to get me out of tight spots and big jams.  On January 7^th, I had to call on Dr. Matt Ammerman and his nuerological surgery team at George Washington University Hospital to perform a secular miracle and they came through huge.  My brain is mending, radiology and chemo are well underway, and speech rherapy is slowly restoring my ability to write.

I have a nasty brand of cancer running on the loose, but my list of literary projects is growing faster .  Did I tell you the one about the woman who lived 15 years sitting up in a chair?

Dear Mika —

Given current events, I think it best that we stop using eMail to communicate.  My fear is that some people (namely my wife and grandchildren) might not understand our relationship if either one us (most likely you) ever became the object of an investigation by the CIA, the FBI,  NATO, or the ACLU. (More)

Gorgeous children and grandchildren. A good dog (excellent, really).  A partner who swears I look like James Dean when I put on my stylin’ shades. What more could a man ask for?  How about a Republican presidential candidate with a little class? (More)

As the Last Great Presidential Debate echoes across America this evening, Obama yard signs outnumber Romney signs in our neighborhood 15-1.  But Halloween decorations outnumber Obama signs 20-1.  The mendacity of hope survives. (More)

My Cairo-based peace piece (a short story) was published this week by LITRO Magazine, a dandy little UK literary journal.  Please honor them and me by joining Ahmed, a 12-year-old Muslim boy, as he brings joy and hope to Egypt and, eventually, to the United States.  Click here for the LITRO home page and the story.

http://www.litro.co.uk/?p=33907

I hate instant analysis. It’s impossible to write about history while you’re still sitting on your bar stool dribbling Jameson’s down your belly.  That’s why I waited more than a week to share my thoughts about the debate defeat of Barack Obama at the hands of the brilliant, charming, wiley Mitt Romney. (More)

Peoria is my kind of town. All the women are beautiful (including my 5-7-9 granddaughters and their mom) and all the men are handsome (well, most of them).  Your don’t have to be in the 1% to own a nice home in an Andy Hardy neighborhood — kids playing across wide green lawns, dogs romping off-leash, dads coming home for dinner at a decent hour.  Despite its share of recession and too many pervasive pockets of poverty, it’s a great place to live and work and raise a family. Provided, of course, that you have the grit it takes to fight for your public school. (More)

As we taxied to the gate one hour late (“someone in Memphis finally answered the phone”) I asked my young seat mate if he was coming home to Peoria.  He said no, he was flying in from Salt Lake City to make a speech.  I said hey, that’s Romney country.  He said no, I’m a Mormon and trust me, everybody in our church despises Romney, he’s such a jerk. (More)

So New Jersey’s gate-mouth Governor is going to keynote the GOP convention?  So the President gets caught giving his wife a smooch at a basketball game?  So for the 400^th consecutive day, Mitt Romney refuses to release his tax returns?  Who cares?  We’ve got baseball! (More)

I wish we could switch to “America the Beautiful” as our National Anthem and that  fireworks were allowed only in South Carolina.  I wish people would stop saying “this economy, this country, this President” and go back to saying “OUR economy, OUR country and OUR President” (dudes, we have only one of each, and they all belong to all of us).  I wish the media would restore the 4th estate’s parenthetical prism, i.e., “Rep. Issa, who in the 1970s was twice arrested for auto theft, today accused Attorney General Eric Holder of lying to Congress.”  I wish Jerry Sandusky would just shut up.  I wish for Eric Cantor a case of hives. (More)