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Back Home Again

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Phil Gulley: All The Rage

These days, most gripers seem to be white guys. Every now and then, I hear a disgruntled woman whine about things, but she’s likely married to a grouchy white guy, and the surliness has rubbed off on her.

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Phil Gulley: Party Of One

When I start my third party, I’ll have to suck up to some rich people to get their money. I don’t ordinarily like spending time with billionaires, but I’ll do it for the good of the country.

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Phil Gulley: Truth or Dare

If your spouse ever asks if you’re mad at him or her, do not say “yes.” Don’t believe that psychobabble about the importance of open and honest communication in a marriage. Everyone who says that is divorced

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Phil Gulley: Back to the Drawing Board

The preponderance of ugly houses suggests most architects are either overworked or undersmart. In either case, it’s time I lent a hand.

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Phil Gulley: Room for Debate

Toss that bed, take down those posters, rent the room to gypsies if you must, but do not give your grown children a toehold back in.

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Back Home Again: Gay Rites

Let us call Indiana’s prohibition against gay marriage what it is: a spiteful effort to deny one group a blessing another group enjoys.

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Back Home Again: Write at Home

I like being a minister, but if I had known I was going to write books anyway, maybe I would have taught college to get the summers off.

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Back Home Again: Life Cycle

There’s an art to motorcycle negotiation. One must strike the perfect balance between indifference and slight interest.

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Back Home Again: Wild at Heart

As the narrative goes, Hank the Dog was born in Oklahoma, abused by his original owner, and taken in by some well-meaning soul who had too many dogs already. There is, from what little information I can coax from my reticent son, an Underground Railroad for rescued dogs, and Hank came north to Putnam County, not far from our home.

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May 2013

From The Libertine to Recess and Oakleys to Bluebeard, Korean to Latin and sushi to steak, our critics choose the cream of Indy’s dining crop.

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The Rob Report

Imagine my surprise when the sheriff phoned to tell me they had discovered my wife’s fingerprints all over the house.

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Back Home Again: Tough on Crime

Anyone serious about a career in crime should be sure not to have shifty eyes. I have spent years of practice not blinking. It’s also wise to avoid sweating, since that’s another thing police look for in determining guilt.

Phillip Gulley
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Slither of Truth

I was hiking in the woods this past fall and stepped on a snake. It was an Inland Taipan, the most toxic snake in the world. One bite can emit enough poison to kill 250,000 mice, or 100 humans—provided they’re not obese, in which case it would only kill 50 or so. It is a shy reptile, once found only in central Australia. But due to global warming, it is now found in Orange County, Indiana, where I stepped on it.

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Brain Trust

In the middle decades of the 20th century, every community had a draft board, composed of local citizens whose responsibility was to interview young men and discern their fitness for military service. As you can imagine, it was not a wildly popular practice. And when young men stopped cooperating by shooting themselves in the foot, the practice ended.

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Christmas Convert

Every year around Christmas, I think what a burden it is to be Christian and consider joining another religion with fewer Yuletide demands. Addressing the cards and pretending I like fruitcake leave me exhausted. I toyed with the idea of becoming a Buddhist monk, which is just exotic enough to be hip, but then I remembered they have to set themselves on fire if a war comes along. As much as I dislike Christmas, I still prefer it over immolation.

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