The story of a migrant child’s days in detention reminds us that a child separated from his or her mother never forgets, says J.P. Devine.

Like a cool blast on a hot day, J.P. Devine remembers a name from the past. He has to go slow to remember all the details, but this is how it all played out.

Instead of a messy death, entrapment between screen and window is the preferred method J.P. employs, despite what his youngest daughter says.

Separated by time and distance and a lack of fingertip tech to search the universe, J.P. Devine rediscovers a friend online, a fellow corner boy from Hollywood days.

It's summer, isn't it? Summer is holy in Maine. Los Angeles has it year-round, and they have no respect for it. Here it's holy. Celebrate it. Break out the Hawaiian shirts, shorts and white sneakers. It's watermelon and lemonade time. And I want to hear some wedding bells. Yes, wedding bells. It's June!

After all, who knows when you’re going to catch a wind-blown napkin covered with mustard in the face, says J.P. Devine.

While all manner of good sense argues to banish tokens of a bygone era to storage, some things linger through time, like a well-struck chord on piano strings, and demand the effort to possess them, J.P. Devine says.

What message did the stars, the planets, the sun and moon have for Howard Schulz, the CEO of Starbucks, on May 29 when his stores closed so his employees could have a lesson on racial bias, asks the astrology-addicted J.P. Devine.

The cleaners at restaurants seem to have less time to chat with customers and tend to their chores like quiet ghosts until opportunity beckons, says J.P. Devine.

Meeting your significant other’s relatives while in character from a play you’re appearing in can lead to some interesting reactions, says J.P. Devine.