My sis and I, 1977.
Sometimes, I like to write a note to honor a very special lady in my life. So, to change things up, this one’s about my sister.
You see, that’s funny, because now my sister thinks she isn’t special. So, for the sake of continual comedy, we’ll assume that’s true.
June 26, 2010. That was the last time this space was updated. Well, a lot has happened since then to stand in the way of wrighting, that’s what it’s being called nowadays, Wrighting. Maybe one day I’ll write a book, and the title will be Wrighting, by Bo Wright.
I’m reading a book now, believe it or not, called On Writing. It’s by none other than Stephen King. It’s a non-fiction piece about his life and his philosophy on writing. I recommend it to any other aspiring writers out there.
So anyway, what should we talk about on this day, 2 months and 1 day after the last blog?
I’ve had a lot of time to reminisce recently. My high school reunion was this past weekend, and, for the most part, it was a rousing success. It was great to see so many familiar faces and hear so many great stories. But you know what? It was pretty anti-climatic.
Facebook has ruined reunions. Continue reading
Once upon a time, there was a girl. A Beautiful Girl.
I met her on campus, at Oral Roberts University. I didn’t know from the moment I laid eyes on her that she would be “the one”, but I did know that I’d like to give her that chance some day.
It didn’t catch fire automatically. In fact, the first time I talked with her, it was on a date. A date she was having with somebody else. A date that was arranged, by me.
That summer, I saw her at a Counting Crows concert, we talked, I was hooked.
Amy and friends prior to Counting Crows concert.
‘Twas the Summer of 1994, the grass was green, the wind was hot, and there was a young man, we’ll just call him Beau, who was a strapping, single 21 year old waiter from Tulsa, Oklahoma.
It was a wild summer for young Beau, who shared an apartment with 4 friends, sometimes 6, most of which worked at a new, upstart restaurant in Tulsa called, Zio’s. Beau’s manager was his roommate and best friend, so he pretty much got all the good shifts, and none of the bad ones. When it came to getting time off, that was not a problem for Beau, or any of his roommates.
One of the roomies, we’ll just call him, Jon, had a brother getting married Memorial Day weekend in Detroit, Michigan. Beau conjured up a plan, meticulously checked schedules, arranged transportation, and before you knew it, a Road Trip was born. This would not be just a road trip to a wedding….no, no, no, this would be a road trip, straight from the manual, How to do America, the Right Way. Continue reading
Once upon a time, there was a little boy, we’ll just call him Beau.
It was October 4, 1978, a Wednesday. The young lad went to school that day, his 6th birthday.
The day began like any other day for a first grader, aside from the fact it was a little easier to stir him from bed. Today, at Macarthur Elementary, in Mrs. House’s class, this young boy would be the center of attention. He didn’t show it, but that meant a lot to him, not so much unlike now actually. He ate his cheerios, hopped in the car, and just knew that every single kid they passed on the road that day, wished they were him. I mean, how lucky is he? This is the day where he officially becomes a part of the two hands club. That’s right, he now needs two hands to show how old he is, none of this childish one hand garbage.
Once upon a time, there was a little boy. We’ll just call him Beau.
Beau, lived a very average childhood, not a whole lot to complain about, but not a lot of shiny happy trophies to parade about either. This story focuses on a certain aspect of young Beau’s life, the 2nd grade.
One August day, on the first day of school, young Beau was dropped off at his brand new school by his young mom. His mom was much younger than all the other 2nd grader’s mothers. Of course, as 2nd graders, Beau and his classmates had no way of knowing this. When you’re in 2nd grade, and you’re mom is 25, she might as well be 85, you truly have no idea. Continue reading