I am a dog. I make no bones about it. There’s nothing I can do about it. I came into this world a dog and that’s what I am going to stay. I’m a big dog. There’s nothing I can do about that either. Little dogs tend to snap and snarl and bark because they’re…
You know how it is when you clean out a filing cabinet or a drawer. You find what you knew you had all along and forgot. You give yourself credit for remembering. That’s what I found today, a piece of paper about an airplane. They called it the Pietenpol. Back in the 1930s you could…
I dreamed and in my dream I saw a face blank stare back at me. A screen. Ringed and wreathed with hideous coils of wire writhing innumerable, interconnected, spitting images, serpentine and woven inextricably of chaos wound upon itself and me wound with it, until curiosity became my doom and I turned to stone. ƒ
Today, oh hell yes I walked the dog. I hate to call her a dog. She’s a spirit. Born pedigreed and cast into a chamber of horrors. Starved and flogged and neglected, terrorized by drunken gun shooters and thieving scoundrels until rescued days from death and now here with me, the perfect companion, hesitant as…
At age 15 they say the Virgin Mary gave birth to Jesus. At age 15 they say Juliet fell in love with Romeo. At age 15 they say my great grandmother immigrated to the United States from Poland. At age 15 they say a girl took a gun to her Christian school…
I love old books. I have one in front of me now. It lies open on my desk. One of twenty volumes bound in watered silk entitled Author’s Digest, The World’s Great Stories In Brief, Prepared By A Staff Of Literary Experts, With The Assistance Of Many Living Novelists, printed in 1908 on thick vellum…
My grandather tried to teach me how to tie a bowline. It’s a knot. I couldn’t do it. My father taught me to tie my shoes on the very first try. Bragged about it. Told my Mom. “On the very first try.” Couldn’t get over it. But Gramps gave up. Stood there with his Pall…
I’ve got a picture I want to show you. I want to show it to you this way. It’s a picture of my grandfather, my father’s father. A man born in 1898. My grandfather stands among eighteen other men in the picture and seven horses in the winter in front of a raw, unpainted frame…
You got no class. Sorry. You got no idea. Tough luck. You weren’t born soon enough. That’s the way it goes. Call me old enough to know better. Call me too old to get it up. Call me anything you like. I don’t have to call you anything at all. Because you got no style.…
I attended a concert by the Rolling Stones on July 11, 1966 in Houston, Texas at the Sam Houston Coliseum the day before my seventeenth birthday. I recall Mick Jagger strutting across the stage wearing a white blazer decorated all over with large blotches of caramel color and he couldn’t get no satisfaction. Neither could…
