The Crotchety Old Man

Category: Southern Living

  • It’s About that Big Truck…

    In gay parlance, I’m not a “car queen.” Motor vehicles do nothing for me. Even the nicest car or truck is simply a means from point A to point B. Recently, however, I’ve been very interested in one particular vehicle. A bunch of guys rent a house around the corner. A year or so ago, they expanded into…

  • Great Service

    As your resident Crotchety Old Man, bitching and complaining is what I do. Exacting my revenge with a withering review is immensely satisfying and more than a little fun. Offering praise is rare. Fairness dictates equal treatment for businesses that go above and beyond the call of duty. My history with cars can be divided…

  • A Christmas Letter

    Dear Friends, Holiday greetings from the Deep South. This year, I’m not sending any cards. My declining vision is such that hand-writing notes and addressing envelopes is too difficult. Yeah, I could print labels and mail form letters, but that’s about as personal as those stupid holiday email messages with dancing elves or some such. May…

  • Out-Crotchetied by Whippersnapper

    In our little subdivision, I’m the resident crotchety old man. Pity the fool who provokes me. I run kids out of my yard, fuss at anyone who fails to pick up after their dogs, and call the police to report illegally parked cars. A guy I’d guess to be in his early thirties recently moved into the…

  • This Bathroom Business

    The push for transgender rights is much in the news these days. The guidance issued to schools by the U.S. Departments of Justice and Education provoked a flurry of fear-mongering commentary from opposition groups. You’d think the world was coming to an end. Science has established that gender, sexual preference, and gender identity are three…

  • Southern Talk 101

    I grew up in Kentucky, lived in D.C. for eighteen months, and for the past seventeen years, have called Athens, Georgia  home. Most folks would say I’m a Southerner. I say most because some denizens of the Deep South don’t consider Kentucky or D.C. part of the South. Blame the War of Northern Aggression, or…

  • Exclusive Interview with Peggy Tucker

    I’m super excited to have Peggy Tucker as a guest on my blog today. She’s a central character in my new release, Whippersnapper, and an extraordinary woman. She’s agreed to answer a few questions and, as a special treat, will share the recipe for her famous cinnamon buns. Peggy: Thank you, Michael. I’m thrilled to…

  • Ice Cream Memories

    I’m lucky. A hand-cranked freezer is the star of my first ice cream memory. I’d eaten the store-bought version before, but making our own ice cream was a special occasion. Vanilla was the norm, augmented sometimes with strawberries, peaches, or bananas. Licking the paddles was the reward for helping with the cranking. Sometimes — not…

  • My Old Kentucky Home

    I grew up in Lexington, Kentucky — the thoroughbred horse capital of the world. Getting back home happens less and less often. There’s much to love about my old hometown, and I find myself missing it more and more all the time. If I had to pick one thing I miss the most about Lexington —…

  • My Backyard

    Outdoor spaces where I’ve lived over the years haven’t been very functional. I blame myself. Once the gardening bug bit, I viewed each potential new residence more for garden potential than anything else. Functionality never entered my mind. The garden I abandoned three years ago contained more than 600 varieties. When I bought the place nearly two…