Maxed Out

Like most men of his generation – born shortly before the Depression and coming of age during World War II – my father always tended to see things in stark shades of black and white, the middle ground full of its shades of grey being a wast

One of the duties and pleasures of being owned by Zippy the Dog is the need – requirement – to take him for walks. Zippy’s a Lab and a reasonably smart dog.

By G.D.

By G.D. Maxwell I’m glad I’m not Whistler Blackcomb.

By G.D. Maxwell I think it’s pretty clear what’s going on around here.

by G.D. Maxwell Let’s face it; 2003 sucked.

By G.D. Maxwell The third year of the new millennium was a disaster - naturally and politically.

By G.D. Maxwell And so it came to pass, as it does around this time every year, that the days were completed to deliver a Christmas column. I guess this is it.

By G.D. Maxwell All of us need solace at some point or another.

Aside from the obvious environmental and warp speed consumerism consequences, there is an entirely subjective reason behind my disdain for the gluttonous vortex sucking my fellow boomers down the black hole of ever larger McMansions.