Kendrick Lamar – Feminism and Religion

I walk my dog at night—usually after midnight I walk in my neighborhood with my dog, Zuma, a dead ringer for Toto from the Wizard of Oz. We are both quiet. I have a small flask of chardonnay I keep in my breast pocket. I might photograph the moon. I might do Wordle and send my result to my wife. Answer a few emails, but I don’t stay on the phone.

I say my “gratitudes” out loud – at least ten of them before I even look at my phone…I say, “I’m grateful for…” (fill in the blank)—the fact that my truck has a moon roof, and I opened it on the way home; My wife is cooking chicken soup; I saw a former student at the coffee shop; I wrote the web footnotes to chapter 12 of the 2^nd ed. of my book; due to the publisher this spring – these are all real gratitudes I said out loud yesterday.