Note: As you can tell, I write a lot about my kids. Not too long ago, while cleaning out the computer I stumbled on this essay. I had written it when my son was a toddler — today he's 12 — which proves my point in the last paragraph. — MSC. It usually starts right before sundown-the time of evening when the Oklahoma sky changes from deep blue to golden orange, then red and, finally, purple. I watch the tall, stately trees slowly fade from brown and green to black - spiky silhouettes waiting patiently for the earth to turn, again, on its belly. It's bed-time. And for my son, Ethan, it's a well-choreographed event which began at 7 this morning. He's been busy. Up early. Preschool by eight. Friends. Field trips. Books. Maybe the park. And-for Ethan, this is a must-some time alone with his ol' buddy, Barney. Then back home. Maybe a bike ride. The park again. More books. Outside. Then bed-time. True, Ethan has better things to do than go to bed. Given the chance, he...
A blog dedicated to good writing and journalism as a career. Inspired by the poetry of Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Consider this that small, funky coffee shop at the corner of Main and Cyberspace. All stories are written by M. Scott Carter, chief political reporter for The Oklahoman. Your comments are welcomed, but only if you're willing to include your name, we don't do anonymous. My name's on every story, you want to play in the big leagues? Post yours, too.