Hard to believe it’s been a year since you called
your last family reunion. The one at the hospital.
Pretending to be a tough guy.
Eating pizza and shooting pool and trying hard
not to remember that you were dying. Then you did.
The long, blurry line of black cars and black suits and old uncles.
We carried you down from the Baptist church and wore dark sunglasses
And tried to be like you. Tried to be men.
When we got home, no one would sit in your chair. It was too soon.
Football in the swampy yard with saw-horse end zones and broken hearts.
I know you’re up there fishing that no-limit river
Where the mountains rub against the sky.
And I know you’ve got Red and Gary to help with the boat,
But sometimes I wish I could sit with you awhile, again
Just to watch the lines.

This past Monday, I started a new position with
This afternoon I had the great pleasure of listening to a living legend: the incorrigible 
Yesterday evening, I became the proud owner of a used GT ZR3000: a glorious concoction of aluminum, rubber and carbon fiber with a glossy blue and white paint job. This is by no means the Ferrari of bicycles, but it is my first serious road bike and it represents many happy miles to come. I took it out to West Creek last night for a spin and compared to what I had been riding, it was pure bliss.
The Bryant Family Library had a major addition over the weekend. We made our traditional fall pilgrimage to the