I’m to blame for the rise of Amazon.  But, can you blame me when I’d spend hours driving to stores that used to carry products I like only to find they no longer carried those, they no longer carried anything in my size, they no longer carried anything that I wanted to buy?  Then with a click of a button on my phone, the very thing I just wasted hours of my life looking for in places I used to find it, is purchased and will arrive to my doorstep in 2 days.  No more driving around.  No more wasted time.  No more frustration leaving a store empty handed.

I’m to blame for the rise of Amazon.  But, can you blame me when I see the Open sign on the store or restaurant, park, walk to the door only to find it locked?  Google search tells me they should be open.  The sign, glowing, blinking, winking at me in the window next to the door says they should be open too.  And yet… and yet the door is most definitely locked.  Then with a click of a button on my phone, on any day, I can find what I was looking for.  No more guess work.  No more having to plan my day around a specific errand.

I’m to blame for the rise of Amazon.  But can you blame me when the movie going experience is no longer what it used to be, what it was meant to be?  When network TV shows follow the same basic formula every single time?  When the cost of cable goes up month over month because of some fee or rate increase or because they felt like it, and with the monopoly they have why not?  Then with a click of a button on my phone or TV, I can watch an abundance of movies and shows, some new, some old, and while the price of Prime has gone up, it isn’t that much or that often, and they give you plenty of warning about it rather than springing it on your bill.

I’m to blame for the rise of Amazon.  But can you blame me, really?  I guess you can.  I’m not going to feel guilty about it, though.



The leaves crackle as they scrape across the asphalt on the dark, crisp morning.  Autumn is stalking me from the dark shadows of my deserted alley.  It makes my skin scrawl and sets my teeth on edge.  I hurry my steps to the presumed safety of my car, because like sheets as a child, the glass and door provide the illusion of safety.  I half expect a monster to pull free of the darkness and crash against my car, unleashing the fury it has to hold in check nine months of each year.  In my imagination it roars in gusts and scratches the glass in flutters of falling leaves.  I ignore the ghosts of my mind, start my car and pull free of my spot.  My headlights splash against the corners and send the monsters scurrying away.  My tires grind the leaves into the pavement.  Soon the sun will rise and the air will warm and then my mind will be free of its morning haunts.


Halfway through… Halfway through.  You did it!  I did it!  We’ve reached this milestone together.  A month of posting every day.

So, I know I haven’t been the best at going out and reading everything you’ve written, but if you are reading this, and you leave me a link or two in the comments, I will go out and read those things.  That’s an official Matticus promise.

And really, if you can’t trust the Jester of the Matticus Kingdom, who can you trust?


The kingdom is full of ninjas.  Full.  Of.  Ninjas.

One minute you are alone in the room and then you look over your shoulder and there is someone standing there watching you.  You jump.  Your heart stops for a second.  Time stands still and your life flashes before your eyes for this is the moment of your doom…

What happens next depends on which ninja it is.

If it is one of the cat ninjas, they usually lick a paw and then walk away as quietly as they arrived, content in the knowledge that they could have destroyed you if they didn’t have more pressing matters, like a nap.

If it is a baby ninja, however, all bets are off.  Chaos and adventure will likely ensue.  What else would you expect from a baby ninja?

So quiet.  So stealth.  Appearing as if from thin air.  Yet still capable of absolute devastation…

It is truly remarkable I have lasted this long.

How much longer will my luck hold?

I may need reinforcements…  Any volunteers out there?


They set the charges and light the fuse
And then seem surprised at the explosion that ensues.
Are we failing them or vice versa?
And why must we think of it as winning or losing?
Parenting doesn’t have to add up.
It isn’t a game. There’s no playbook, no ending.
Yet everyone who has ever been one
Thinks their doled expert advice will fix every problem.
The truth surely is far simpler,
Every child is unique and will be raised different.
What worked for the experts
Is a guarantee of nothing but days ill spent.
But this isn’t about that at its core.
It’s about two little hooligans from kingdom lore
Doing everything in their power
To work against the rule of the land, their parents,
And then being reduced to a cower
When facing the consequences their actions rent.