the majesty of America might survive the trolls who, in fear and anger, sought to shrink it.

“This is back the way that it used to be,” he said with a glow, “and if you compare this to Stitzel-Weller, it’s close.”

Vodka is for the skinny and scotch is for the strivers and bourbon is for the homesick.

“When tomorrow comes,” it read, “this day will be gone forever, leaving something in its place I have traded for it.” I feel like I am forever making bad trades. I wonder if I’m just repeating the mistakes of my father. My parents talked a lot about going to China to see those gorges. My father died and they never made the trip. Now the gorges have

I’ve been ordering my life foolishly. A voice of warning has been growing louder as I considered what being a father actually means. When I make an accounting of myself honestly, I do not like what I find. Always a pleaser, I have put satisfying bosses above myself or the needs of my family and friends. I have put worldly success at the top of my

I’ve been reading Thomas Merton. His writings offer the best path I can find for my own return to the church—or to God, really, since I believe I’m done with church—and

the Irish remember the defeats long after the English have forgotten the victories.

Kentucky wasn’t part of the Confederacy. It never seceded and yet now clearly defines itself as the South.

“I wanted to get out of Mississippi in the worst way,” he said. “Go back? What I want to go back for?”