Tim Torkildson's Clown Alley

  Times are tough all over.   The Torkildsons have been impacted by the runaway inflation just like everyone else.  Our lifestyle has contra...

  Normal is the new quirky.  I found this out the other day when I bought a new dark blue suit for work and to go to church.  The salesperso...

  Thailand nurtures misfits and writers.  Especially writers.  In a cheap un-airconditioned room with cross ventilation you can create spraw...

  I went to Iowa by mistake.   The bus was supposed to travel to Sarasota.  So either I got on the wrong bus or there was a massive conspira...

  The express desk loomed before me like a sudden plateau.  I jumped into the chair behind it. Spun around several times.  Put my feet up on...

  We were all simply mad about balloons that particular February.  There was little else of interest in the news.  Or rather, there was too ...

  As I walked down the street, keeping myself to myself, I nonchalantly spit out a sunflower hull into the gutter.  Snacking on salted sunfl...

  Chiseling an identity takes hard work.  Determination. And plenty of moxie.  I should know.  I've been carving out new identities sinc...

  Eating ice cream, gazing out his apartment window at two orphaned pigeons, Andy Newman began to disappear.  "This is not normal"...

  I prefer not to work. At anything. My philosophy has always been: let it come to me,  whether it be wealth, love, power, or Bismarck herri...