Jack and I used to work together. He's taller than me, bald and very smart. Every morning we'd hit the break room for coffee and some conversation — which usually lasted throughout the day. Often it was religious. Jack's very well read and if the they gave out PhDs in Theology for just a general, rock-solid knowledge of Christianity, Jack would have several. I miss him. Oh, it's not that anything is wrong. Jack and his family are fine. But I simply miss him. I miss the conversation, the lunches, and the friendship. I miss hearing about his family and what he was planning for the weekend. I miss a conversation between two men about something more than football. Funny thing, too, Jack and I work in the same town. He's my friend and, over the past several months I've let that friendship slide. And that's wrong. I need to call Jack. I need to tell him I miss him. I need to be a better friend.
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.