A Love Letter To Asheville: Taste

I don’t live there anymore; Asheville.  Like a lot of people from Western North Carolina, I grew up in one of its dusty corners…in a suburb decorated with swimming holes, pick-up trucks, and men with mouths full of Appalachian marbles. It was Friday night football games, Saturday night moonshine, and Sunday morning worship.  But it…

The Grown-Up Wedding

     It was about this time of year in 1998, give or take a few weeks…I was 12 at the time, and think I had just kissed a boy for the first time a matter of days before. It was the kind of kiss friends shame you into then watch with intrigue until their turn…