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There’s a proverb that says if you love something, let it go. If it returns, it’s yours. If not, well, it never belonged to you in the first place. But had my son Braden written that proverb it would go more like this: “If you love something and it won’t cooperate, stomp the guts out…

There may be no more hostile crowd than a horde of tanked-up adults cheering for their children in the heat of competition. Moms and dads shrieking and squalling; grandparents riding the umpire’s backside like a cheap suit; armchair coaches managing from the bleachers: Watching children play can devolve into nothing more than a war of…

When my wife insisted that I accompany her to the gym I thought it was a good idea. She had been pressing me about it for some time, and combined with my recent lipid readings I finally relented and agreed to go. When she informed me that we must rise at 4:30 in the morning…
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