I feel uneasy tonight. I'm not sure if I helped or was had. In what has become something of a Thursday-evening-post-basketball tradition, I drove to Walmart for some late night shopping. Two weeks ago it was new shorts and an exercise shirt. Last week it was another exercise shirt (because I liked the first one so much). This week it was new insoles and laces for my basketball shoes. (Thelma, who has thoroughly documented her distaste for shopping at Walmart has driven me to these shopping trips under the cover of night.) Approachable is not how I would have described myself as I trudged across the Walmart parking lot in my wife-beater sleeveless shirt, shorts and coordinating fleece vest. Sweaty, yes. Beleagured, perhaps. Approachable, no. But a woman did approach. Something told me to stop and wait for her. She was caught somewhere between out-of-breath and verge-of-tears. I could see she was nervous talking to me. She tripped quickly over some desperate story that I co
Clippings and thoughts I'd rather not mulch