Aw man sunshine girl! Whoa man! I met Sunshine Girl when I was five years old. My family had recently returned back to Annapolis from Baltimore. The community we moved to was called “20”. This is where I met her.

Sunshine Girl did not live in “20”. She came to visit relatives there usually in the summer. I saw her for the first time either during the summer after kindergarten or the summer after first grade. She was the prettiest human being I’d ever seen in my life. Big pretty brown eyes that twinkled when she blinked. Real eyelashes that would put these modern fake ones to shame and she had a smile that was brighter than the sun. Hence the name. Her skin was a pretty caramel color that was even prettier when it was tan. She was the first girl that made me recognize “a girl” and I sat up and took notice. At five years of age I did not know what a kiss was but I certainly knew that I wanted to kiss her…..

The amazing thing was Sunshine Girl would actually talk to me and play with me. We would run through the community and to the playground and between buildings, all innocent fun that five and six year old kids will have. She was older than me but I didn’t know that at the time. Her older cousins and two older brothers made sure I kept a safe distance. After the second grade I moved from “20” to my new community Bywater and didn’t see Sunshine Girl for a few years.

Lo and behold one day at my new community me and a couple of friends were hanging outside my house just having fun. There was a girl who lived across the street and down a little bit who was popular with all the other girls. This day a group of girls came over to hang with her. I could not believe my eyes when I saw that one of the girls with Sunshine Girl.

Sunshine Girl had the talent and beauty to be a star. She could have done tv commercials, movies, videos anything. Even though she probably only stood about 5 foot 3 and maybe weighed about a 110 pounds she had a big smile, a big laugh and even bigger personality. She knew how to have fun and to create fun. Wherever she was there was a party going on and I mean that in the truest sense. No building, no place, no space could contain her energy. School could not do her any justice because she had more to teach than to learn. She was a natural actress. There were some people who may have been put off by her combination of beauty and energy but not me. I was fortunate to know her and know how kind hearted she was and how loyal she was, to a fault sometimes.

All through school and into early adulthood I would see her occasionally as we would run into each other from time to time. We never dated but we also had a respectful different kind of friendship. We would  occasionally have conversations about who I was dating and I would always ask her family members how she was doing. At this point I haven’t seen her in twenty years or so but she left an indelible mark on me nonetheless.

Sunshine girl taught me a valuable lesson: be yourself, no matter what. No apologies no pretense. She also set a standard for me in the sense that I was  comfortable talking to attractive women early in my life. I never judged people based on initial appearance.

And you know what? For me, she doesn’t have to be anybody else. She is Sunshine Girl.

I met Herb when I was four years old. His mother was my paternal aunt and we grew to be as close as brothers. I first encountered him upon visiting his house as he did not live in my community. He was the youngest of four siblings, which included two older brothers and one older sister. We were a match made for mischief.

My earliest memories of my friendship with Herb started when he lived in what we referred to as the Pink House. The exterior of the home was actually pink. Two of my older female cousins along with myself would visit occasionally throughout the year. That’s when our friendship began.

We really acknowledged our kinship when Herb’s family moved from the Pink House to the new house which became the Brown House. I was an unpolished city boy whose life was shaped by an urban upbringing. Herb was a rough around the edges country boy whose lifestyle was shaped by a suburban upbringing. Perfect!!!

All of the older cousins were recruited to help my aunt and uncle move to the new house. Myself, the younger cousin, was allowed to tag along. Upon arriving at the new house Herb and myself spent our time running around on the new front deck and out in the expansive of backyard. This was a fortelling of what was to come.

Herb and I started alternating summers at each other’s homes. My uncle had a farm which included horses, cattle, pigs and chickens. He had a barn that contained a bunch of cool motorcycles. He owned the guns and equipment that allowed him to make his own ammunition. Herb and I would go crabbing, fishing, camping, all outdoor activities that I had not experienced up to this point of my life. Herb raced motorcycles and my uncle would allow me to go along to the track to serve as the “assistant mechanic”. They taught me how to ride motorcycles. My aunt and uncle worked irregular schedules  which allowed herb and I to have a lot of time at home by ourselves. There were other friends around, but not like in my community……

Herb spent summers at my house, which included me and my two younger siblings. As a matter of fact Herb, Pete and myself became like the three amigos. See one of us you see all of us. The good times and troubles grew exponentially. I lived in a community of town homes. No fishing, no crabbing, no camping, but lots of people. Mainly, lots of girls. And Herb noticed. His community was somewhat isolated. He lived in a single family home surrounded by a few acres of land. His friends lived about a quarter of a mile away. In my community, all of my friends were literally right next door. The girls were all around across the street, up the street, down the street, next door, everywhere. He could barely contain himself. I didn’t blame him. We indulged ourselves accordingly……having more fun than should be allowed as teenagers.

I learned a lot of valuable lessons from Herb, some directly some indirectly. Herb was the first I saw who owned an electric guitar and an amplifier. I bought an electric base because we were supposed to start a band. After about a year, Herb turned his interest elsewhere (girls) and gave me the guitar and amp. He made playing music tangible for me. Somewhere in our mid teens, he gave me one of the most important lessons in my life. He said this: Don’t worry about stuff. If you can’t change it, it’s gonna happen anyway. If you can change it, then change it. I never forgot those words. I’ve had to apply it many times over the course of my life. Another thing herb taught me was toughness. He had to fight for his position in the family as he grew up with some tough older siblings. Even though he was privileged he had to grow up fast. I also learned that having a privileged life doesn’t mean that your life is complete.

There’s so much more. I could add to this story, but I’ll end by saying this. I am eternally grateful for the times that we get to spend together.

How do you begin a story that is almost sixty years in the making? You start at the beginning.

I met “Pete” at the sandbox on the playground. I was three years old. He was four. We lived in small community that consisted of what seemed to be only two streets. The area was rich in tradition as it sat on the banks of the Severn River with the United States Naval Academy directly across the main road. Both historic locations were within walking distance. Remnants of the once active AWB and WB&O Railroad that stretched from Annapolis to Elkridge ran adjacent to the community. Residents could walk to the banks of the Severn River to watch the annual aerial display of the Blue Angels for the Naval Academy graduation.

Pete and I became instant friends. We hung out just about every day. There were other kids in the community. There was a  kid named Herb about our age. We later had to refer to him as “White Herb” as another Herb (Black Herb) would emerge.

When Pete turned five he no longer was available to play as he headed off to school. I had another year to go. Pete liked school. He would come home and describe his day with enthusiasm as he met new friends from different communities. When the school year ended we all moved from the community as it was purchased by the Naval Academy.

Our families moved to different locations so for a couple of years we were out of touch. And then my mom moved to a community called Bywater. Pete’s famiky was already there. And suddenly we were old friends once again. We got into all sorts mischief. I mean…….phew! Boy, we knew how to have fun! 

You see, if you weren’t one of Pete’s close friends you could not have known the comedic talent he possessed. He was literally a damn clown in the best sense of the word. He did great voice imitations, crazy facial expressions and physical comedy that a boy his age should not have been capable of. Jim Carey had nothing on him! We laughed and acted silly all day long. So much so that our moms spent the majority of some days yelling “y’all stop acting so damn silly”. That made us laugh even more….

As we progressed through adolescence Pete became my big  brother. Most of what I learned through sports came from him. He introduced me to the sport of football, both professional and college. He loved football and did a great imitation of Hall of Fame Sports Reporter Howard Cosell. Even in elementary school he possessed vast knowledge of the history of the game. He could probably name every player on every team in the NFL at that time and could imitate their voices and body movements as well!

Pete could have easily been a comedy skit writer if not a performer himself. Really! He watched a lot of comics on TV at that time (Lucille Ball, Richard Pryor, Flip Wilson,Three Stooges) and knew all of their lines.

We were both music fans and I recall the time Pete told me that the bass line from Parliament Funkadelic’s “Flashlight” was from a keyboard. My brain could not comprehend and so I challenged him unsuccessfully. (This happened a lot…lol)  You see, Pete’s Uncle Dean played keyboards so he was exposed to the early technology. I met Dean in my teens and it changed my musical trajectory. Dean played a song that he had recorded. I noticed that the song had multiple voices that sounded like Dean. He explained that he used a “multitrack recorder”. I was astonished and hooked. My world shifted that day. Bought my own multitrack recorder a few months later.

As you can see I learned a lot from our friendship. Too much to even try to include in this post. Many of early interests were fortified through our growing up together. You know what? We are still friends today. Almost sixty years from the sandbox.

Man it’s wednesday. Now, today I’m going to try to finish up what I didn’t get done over the weekend. Got some straightening up to do in my garage, guess I’ll finish cutting my backyard and hopefully get a chance to at least listen to some music. Great weather today so I’m gonna try to get outside and start there early.

You know, these last few days got me thinking about something. I have these stories I want to share, but I’ve been putting them off for a few years now. I want to make sure that I write them in the correct way and that the stories represent the people involved properly. I’ve been fortunate to have good people become a part of my life and I just think that the way we became friends is somewhat noteworthy.

One of these stories is somewhat fascinating and you’ll understand once I write it. However, I didn’t want to write that story without presenting the stories that preceded it. A major challenge will be trying to condense these stories down into an acceptable length. These friendships developed decades apart but they’ve all managed to last my lifetime and I am grateful for that. Stay tuned and I hope you appreciate them.

Well, can you guess what I had for dinner on Saturday….? Lol.

Man a year can certainly go by quickly when you get to be my age. As Holy Week 2026 has passed I’m reminded of Holy Week 2025 and the subsequent days thereafter. The evolution of the past year brought back memories of how I began to appreciate Holy Week in the way that I currently do.

I was not raised in the church in the typical way, but was raised by a church going family. My grandmother, great aunts and uncles and my Aunt Betty attended church nearly every Sunday. While I was not required to go I did witness them preparing for church, putting on their Sunday’s finest, singing  hymns and having prayer in preparation for the service.

Between the ages of 5 and 18 I estimate that I attended church about twenty times. Upon high school graduation at the age of eighteen I realized that I was at a crossroads. I was working a part time job but anticipating going to college. As a high school sophomore, I qualified for concurrent enrollment, meaning that I could have been taking college classes while still in high school and possibly enter college having already finished my freshman and possibly sophomore year. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the family structure or the support to make that happen which dampened my outlook a little bit. But God had me……

The summer after I graduated a thought came into my mind.  I needed guidance. And to a lesser degree, I needed closure.  As an adolescent I grew up in a small community which would generally be characterized as “the ‘hood”. Despite the poverty and lack of ideal living circumstances, my “hood” gave me power and wisdom the which you would have had to live through to understand. (ByH2O You Know!). I had long since moved away by eighteen but went back on a regular basis to visit relatives who still lived there.

In the home where I use to live there was a short field of about sixty feet wide in the back. There was a tree line and a creek just beyond with one particular tree that I would climb as a youngster. As I was not a great tree climber, this particular tree had branches that aligned perfectly for me to climb easily and at about twelve to fifteen feet up there was a perch where you could sit and no one would notice you were there. On the days when I didn’t wanna be bothered I would find humor in sitting in the tree and watching my friends come to my house walking up and down the field near the creek looking for me. When I finally did appear I would laugh my ass off as I told some grand story as to where I was as they were conducting their search. I have to admit I was a great “storyteller”.

So the summer after I graduated I went back to the tree for the first time in years. I visited my childhood home and met the people who lived there. They granted me permission to go to the backyard so I could climb the tree. Surprisingly, it was very similar to what I remembered and easier to climb than I had imagined. So I made my way up to my usual spot. And sat down just thinking about life. What was I gonna do moving forward? The first thing that came to my mind was to ask God for guidance. And that is what I did. I can still clearly recall myself speaking out loud and saying these almost exact words: God I don’t know if you are real. I hope you are real and I think you’re real. I need your guidance. So if you do exist I need you to tell me where I belong at this point in my life. I’ve been the man of my house for a long time and now I need to know what’s best for me and my family. Real talk….

I sat there for a few minutes afterwards and then realized that I had to make my way down that tree. As I was climbing down, I suddenly remembered that I had a fear of snakes and decided to jump at about the eight foot mark to speed up my exit. I then ran from that field for the very last time.

A few months later when school started in September I was still working my part time job. My mother worked for a state agency in conjunction with the career center and recommended that I go speak with the career counselor.  As fate would have it, this person’s office was located on the campus of the local community college, the very college where I would have completed concurrent enrollment in high school.

Upon arriving on campus for my scheduled date it turned out that the counselor was not in his office but was due to return some time later that day. With that in mind, I decided to walk across the campus just to check out the “student life” and also gather information for possible enrollment in classes. I barely made it from one building to the next before a middle aged lady came up to me and asked if I needed a job. Being a bit caught off guard I was somewhat hesitant, but I said yes. She literally took me by the arm down to an office where I started to work as a temp and eventually became a full time employee. Lo and behold one of the benefits of full time employment at the campus was free tuition. As my grandmother would say, “Hallelujah”. Full time job and FREE education! And that was just the beginning. Let’s get back to Holy Week.

After being on campus about a year or so I started to notice a group of well dressed gentlemen usually in pairs walking around the campus with boxes. They would appear at certain times of the year. As people walked by these gentlemen would hand out little green books that I didn’t recognize as I had never seen them before. Honestly I avoided these men on most occasions because I was usually busy working and I did not want to “buy” whatever they were selling. It wasn’t until maybe my third year on campus that I decided to not avoid these gentlemen on site. As I walked by one of them said to me, “Hey young man look like you’re walking with a purpose. Would you like one of these?” As he offered the unknown “book” I politely declined as many of the students before me had done. The gentlemen then said, “Why are so many young people afraid of the Bible? It is a great reference for showing how to be a better person”. I proceeded to walk by without responding, but I had to walk past again as I returned to my office.

As I returned course I encountered the two gentlemen once again, the one who spoke to me initially now having a confident, but pleasant, smirk. “Those are Bibles you’re handing out”, I ask. He replied yes. “For free?” He says yes. His extended hand reaches a copy to me. I accept it and say to him, “This is my first Bible”. He asks, “How old are you son?”  I state my age. He nods approvingly and says, “Perfect. Let the Bible be a lifelong companion and you will lead a good life.”

I ended up collecting 3 of those bibles, later learning that they were given out by Gideons International. I kept one in my car, one at my desk and one on my nightstand. I did not start reading right away, but made a personal promise to read the book from beginning to end.

I never read the Bible in its entirety. However, I adopted the practice of reading scriptures recommended for particular circumstances. That started in my early twenties. Over the years I started reading scriptures  recommended as Verses For The Day. In addition and for balance I later added reading my daily horoscope. I continue that to this day.

For some unknown reason, starting in the Summer of 2025, I stopped reading my morning scriptures and horoscopes. Every morning I’d wake up, grab my phone and start my day without my morning Word. I had so many distractions that I tried to do everything I needed to do all at once. I “didn’t have time” to read in the morning”. This went on for months. Until one day in February while mindlessly scrolling the above picture appeared in an ad. I got the message.

Easter was approaching. Great time to recenter my spiritual focus.  I got back to my morning reading which I now do with my phone. I do not know the whereabouts of my Gideon Bibles as I have long since used my phone for reading. Also, the print had gotten way too small for “progressive glasses”! I watched “The Ten Commandments” as I do every year. Cultural misappropriation notwithstanding, this is still a great movie.

I’m gonna make a personal promise to have my morning reading every day, not just for Holy Week.

Have you ever planned the perfect day only to have it altered against your wishes? Have you ever had your plans changed unexpectedly for the better? It happened to me this past weekend.

All week I had adjusted my schedule so that Saturday would be clear. I had some home projects to finish and I wanted to make time to work on a song I had started. It was looking promising by Thursday so I was optimistic. My Friday night turned into Saturday morning as I stayed up until 2am to get a head start on my schedule.

Saturday morning. 7am. I am awake. I don’t jump out of bed right away, just easing into my free and clear day. I decided to run a few errands while it was still early. I like to beat the crowd when I have to go to the store. After a couple of stops, I head back home and fix myself some breakfast. Just as I was about to settle in my phone rings.

“Hello hey what’s up dad?” 10:40am. My father is in the driveway. Okay. It’s early so I can hang out with dad and still get things done. So I’m talking to my father for about an hour or so and my phone rings again. “Hey Jeff what’s up dude?” My brother wants to stop by to get my opinion on something. “What time are you gonna be here?”  “Dad is here by the way.” It’s approaching noon. My brother says he’ll be by around 3pm. So my father decides to hang around until then.

Next thing I know my father is chilling in my recliner. I’m running up-and-down the steps and in and out the back door on the deck trying to get my housework done. We’re having a great time and great conversation. So much so that we don’t even realize that we’ve gone past lunch. My brother finally arrives around 3 and I ask if anybody wants to eat and nobody’s interested. So we continue the conversation talking about family, sports and  motorcycles just enjoying the day. My wife and sons come in and join the conversation and then my nephew calls….

After my nephew talks to his dad, his grandfather and then myself he tells us that he may stop by. And then my sister called. She contemplated whether she was gonna come down or not, but my dad and brother told her that they wouldn’t be here much longer. They ended up staying until around six o’clock, by the way… And then my cousin called.

My sister, my cousin and my nephew decided not to show up because it was so late in the afternoon, but those of us who did had a good time.

I started my weekend by thinking that it would be perfect because of what “I” wanted to do. As it turns out the day was even more perfect because of what God wanted “us” to do: enjoy and love our family. That’s Real Savage right there!

Now y’all know I like sweets right? Well I was planning to finish some music and then clean up my garage after dinner. Finished dinner around 5. Talked with my family for a few. Sat on the couch for what was supposed to be a minute.

So after a two hour AARP nap I woke up with a craving for a snack. “Can’t buy any store made cakes”! It’s like 7:45pm Sunday evening and no way is “she” gonna bake anything. So I take it personal. Challenge accepted. So today was my first attempt at chocolate chip cookies. 8pm. Done by 8:30pm. Not pretty but taste better than expected. Altered the ingredients slightly. And one big benefit of baking them myself: I had a few extra chips “on the side”.