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Forty years and almost two months after I was graduated from Baylor University, I stood outside the wrought iron gates of its president’s home. I’m talking about Ken Starr’s home. He’s the president of Baylor. The same Ken Starr who investigated President Bill Clinton in the Monica Lewinsky sex scandal and on the Paula Jones sexual harassment charges. So I find it painfully ironic that it’s a series of rape scandals

I’m stuck in Whataburger and I don’t want to be.  Rain from Tropical Storm Hermine is slashing out of the sky.  As much as I don’t want to be in the WB, even more of me doesn’t want to get soaked to the bone, as my grandmother would have said, running to my car. I don’t want to be at the WB because I think I may have just written the opening of my book-after-next (meaning the book to be written after I write my secon