The Charlie Bravo Story

The Sound.

Dad and I have never liked spending much time dwelling on my condition when I exited the crate; it seems that there is more than enough negative garbage being spewed by the media without any help from us. Instead, it has been our mission from the beginning to spread good news, because at the end of the day, there is no bad news, just varying degrees of good news, based totally on our perception. But…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Good day, eh?

There are pros and cons to every situation; some would say that being temporarily unemployed in today's economy would be the worst thing that could happen, but I haven't seen dad this relaxed in, well, not since I've came to grace the Casa with my prescence. Things have a way of "working out", and like my time in the crate, you look back and the negative feelings of those hard times are nothing but a…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Something this way comes

In an effort to create a little personal space, dad has migrated from the bed to the couch: as if he can escape the inevitable! Now he has the whole clan piled onto a much smaller area, but nobody ever said he was smart. But there is a new ingredient added to this canine stewpot; mom didn't push the front door completely closed when she left, and now a barely perceptible,slow, creaking sound is evident…
The Charlie Bravo Story

All is quiet on the western front.

Max here: Pre-dawn at the Casa... if the bed was North America, dad would be sleeping along the coasts of Washington, Oregon and a bit of northern California, with Charlie occupying Nevada, Utah, Idaho, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Kansas, Oklahoma, Missouri, Arkansas , Iowa, and the Dakotas. Mia has annexed the rest of southern California from LA down to Tijuana, and I migrate at will like a hirsute band of gypsies from region to region as…

When were you young

As time sweeps past and vanishes behind me, an assimilated, impotent adulthood heaves itself through the ephemeral mist of youth, my restlessness pounded away by the vicissitudes and tides of everyday life. Someday even I may not believe my horizions were once so limitless. It’s a mystery to me now what these images might mean to me then. These words were written by Trevor Ware before being struck down by a drunk driver; no doubt…
The Charlie Bravo Story

Dad here; today, after ninety-five years on this mortal coil, we lay a fine woman to rest. Although not related by blood, we will miss this incredible soul just as keenly. She lived an incredible life, and as such, it is not a time for mourning. Much will be said of her qualities at the memorial service, and deservedly so, but I would like to comment on those who cared for her selflessly for the…
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