Some people are born with dark hearts and a blighted spirit. Their brief stays on earth are marked by chaos, confusion and catastrophe. They bring mischief everywhere they go and leave wreckage in their path ignoring the pain they cause.

The rest of us cope. We make the most of our miseries and just mumble through the business of living. We raise our kids, try to have a pleasant life and then slip off quietly to our final reward.

Some few others make life a wonder, a joy, even without meaning to do so. There are very, very few of these people, a group that is so small it can dance on the head of a pin.

This is a story of just such a group. And while it, too, causes chaos, confusion and catastrophe, it means no harm. It only means to make our surroundings more tidy and comfortable, to put them in order and make this troubled world a better place.

Ben French was an idler, a slacker, a lazy good for nothing all his days on earth. When his life ended and he was assigned to a job in the nether world, he wasn't too worried; he'd always found a way to avoid expending any effort and he'd do it now, too. He quickly found, though, that he couldn't avoid his duties. He was stuck for all eternity in the miserable, soul-crushing role of usher, pitchforking the remains of other lost souls into the blast furnace of forever, into the gaping maw of oblivion. The demands were unceasing and he badly needed a way out.

Fortunately, he discovered an escape clause. Ben could rid himself of his obligations and make his days more comfortable if he somehow found a replacement. The Butcher of Souls chronicles Ben's search not only for a replacement but also for a return to his former existence, one of comfort and ease, of modest indulgences and everlasting peace.

Father Tom is a perfectly unremarkable man who, in his youth, chose the quite remarkable calling of Episcopal priest. At sixty-five, he is at the end of a long life, thinking of the future and, of course, the past. His wife Merilee has preceded him into eternity and he's torn between the need to join her and the desire to leave his mark at St. Ursula's. It might be hard to do. For some time now, he's simply been going through the motions, awkwardly playing a part.

Tom resolves once and for all to change lives for the better and in a moment of inspiration, thinks he's found the way. Although he's never done it before and may run afoul of the church, he decides to take the confessions of his parishioners. The very next Sunday, he sets out to generate some enthusiasm, even recruit some volunteers. There are sure to be surprises and he quickly finds both his suspicions and his greatest fears confirmed.

“The hill was green with new grass and the sun had reached the top of the midday sky. It might have rained earlier or it might have been a strong dew but here and there a little sparkle flashed across the graves.

Will Chambers had died just three short months before and was still getting used to his accommodations. He liked the rolling hills and neatly placed stones but the little cherry and crab apple trees were his real delight. They stood like parasols over some of the stones and lent an almost cheerful aspect to what might otherwise have been a dreary spot.”

So begins the saga of an ordinary man who passes from life into the life of sorts that follows. Take this journey now and you'll be prepared when you, too, must follow that path.

Instead of growing up on a farm or in Times Square like everyone else in America, Tom and Joe grew to full maturity on a tiny island, a little fragment, a sun splashed phenomenon. The island of Nantucket had become detached from a continent in much the same way as an iceberg is calved from its parental polar mass. It floated offshore for some time, finally coming to rest on a sand bar some thirty miles south of dry land. It may never have wished to leave but the rolling and bumping of tectonic plates dictated its departure and it simply went along for the ride.

So, too, did Tom and Joe. Once they were born and their heads had stopped reeling from all that chaos in the birth canal they were very much at sea. As they grew into themselves, they learned they'd have to eke out a living much as their parents had done. They'd have to make their own way and that way would provide challenges that weren't easily overcome. They tried and failed many times but they succeeded modestly in the end by summoning all their strengths and resources, even some from beyond their earthbound ken.

We experience bits of Heaven or Hell every day but ignore them in a headlong rush toward the next thing on our agenda, convinced that we'll somehow succeed in enriching our lives.

These essays are an attempt to slow that rush long enough to see ourselves and the world around us a little more clearly. We are blessed and we are cursed, sometimes both at once.

DINING AT DEB'S, THE FIREMEN and THE REUNION are about friendship.

RON AND MARY is about devotion.

I'M A NEW MOM, A BIT OF MAGIC and HOLD MY SHIT! are about love.

The remaining essays are about everything else.

As our lives unfold we encounter extraordinary people and events that we overlook not because they're unimportant but because we're too busy or preoccupied to see how extraordinary they are.

This collection of essays attempts to celebrate the little world, the one we neglect, the one that provides the richness in our lives.

Pathways I and II are portraits of two talented and gifted men, both either psychologically unbalanced or simply destined to take a different path.

Encountering the Divine and Ya shoulda treateda betta are a few unexceptional minutes in Key West, commonplace yet extraordinary.

My favorite porn site is a critique much needed in today's confusing world where vast amounts of titillating content cry to be seen.

Why am I always afraid?
Why do we love bullies?
What do you do when you get mugged?

How do you cope with Vanity, Beauty, Fame and Sex, Gypsies, Geniuses and Organized Crime?

Aging, Aspirations, Contentment, Confidence.

Why stick around?

The answers to these and all other questions are found in this collection of essays.

This book is really two books. One story is about the early PGA tour and the kids who caddied for the touring professionals. There were no professional caddies as there are now. In the fifties, each course provided the players with its usual roster of caddies, kids between the ages of twelve and twenty and the pros were stuck with them. Some were great caddies and good golfers in their own right. Others were “saddies”, not real loopers and simply dragged their guy's bag around the course. The pros struggled to make a buck in those early years and the kids they drew had a real effect on their income, week in and week out.

The other story is the story of those kids themselves. It's about growing up in rural Connecticut and being a boy. It's about discovering the wild and bit by bit, the world of the adults they caddied for, a world very different from the quiet one they enjoyed at home. The caddy shack was not like Junior high; it was a school full of fascinating information on sex, alcohol and mischief of many kinds. Kids learned great lessons about sportsmanship, too and were treated kindly in ways that would be remembered for the rest of their days. It was a caddy's education, both shockingly raw and as sweet as a bottle of Pepsi at the end of the day.