As a hypochondriac, I make the most of my maladies, describing them to all who listen.
My lifelong pal, Joe Saddler, saved me from going to hell—and so much more.
Our political incumbents are about as legitimate as my claim to be a Republican.
It’s canoeing season in Indiana, but not for Philip Gulley.
Despite Phil Gulley’s contempt for royalty, he thinks the governor should be overthrown by a queen, preferably a Black one.
People should stay close to home where they belong, particularly when those people are my kids.
Even in a small town like Danville, there’s room for civility between the two Americas.
I once underappreciated the emotional power of smell, but I’ve come to my senses.
The timing to build his screenhouse could have been better, but for Phil Gulley there are few problems a good screenhouse can’t solve.
As bad as 2021 was, a few Hoosiers renewed Phil Gulley’s faith in humanity.
I’ve lost my appetite for loud music and television in restaurants.
If you think development is bad, consider the alternative: shuttered storefronts, weed-choked sidewalks, and failing schools.
I’ve spent my life guarding against imaginary dangers.
A lot of great old cars sit in the mind’s garage of Philip Gulley — along with a few clunkers.
I have a few things I want to do before I die. When, exactly, that happens is a dispute between my financial planner and the Internet.
