• THEN, NOW

    It was easier then, so let’sgo there, the spring of 1970,the location is less important,so long as it’s a coffee housewhere those barely old enoughto drink, or barely short of thatage congregate, waiting forsomething to happen or, Iseriously hoped, someone,someone with little hair, butwho carried James Joyce inhis jeans pocket, Portrait ofthe Artist the only…


  • REAL TIME

    He can spend hours on the wooden bench in the small square in the center of the village. There he is but a statue, staring up at the giant clock face that looms over the square from the turret of the Village Hall. He likes to watch the long hand, arrowlike, make its slow, but…


  • MIX TAPE

    There is an artto creating a mix tape,more so to day, whentape is usually onlyfound in museumsand antique stores. Then you chose carefullyaware of the sonics,aware of the limits on time,weaving a musical tapestry. You can do a mix CDbut everyone knowsthat with tape you listenedall the way through,for fast forward was onlyfor getting to…


  • CAT PEOPLE

    We spent one morningof our visit to Key West wanderingaround Hemingway’s home. The six-toed cats seemed to realizethat we were cat people, cameover to us, took us asidefor a petting and conversation. He was a tough old goat,they said, or so our ancestorstold itm and we cannot beginto understand why you,cat people, so obviously intelligentwould…


  • JUST ONE MORE HAND

    My parents, well my father,always felt is was necessaryto stop on the way to our summer homein the Western Adirondacksto visit Uncle Morris, who mayor may not have been an unclein the blood sense, it was never clear.It was he who sold my father the cottagenear the small lake, he who nowlived in a nursing…


  • HARD TIME

    I was only in jail once,then for four hours, no chargesand my biggest fear was thatmy parents would find out,or the cops would determinethat I was only 17 and breakingthe park curfew was noteven a misdemeanor. They let me go, gave mea ride back to the park,told me not to go in butI wouldn’t at…


  • WE ARE IN KANSAS, TOTO

    In my dream, the worldwas at peace, and I was ridingacross Kansas on a unicycle, towingmy car, packed to the windows,my dog walking alongside urgingme to speed up because shewanted to visit South Dakota.I am due for a tricycle, Iremind the dog, “the gravemore likely,” she respondswith a sneer that teeters betweenlove and spite, always…


  • PARENTAL MOMENTS

    My adoptive parents diedsix years apart, I receivedtwo announcement textsfrom the son they had together. We negotiated her obituary,and I am waiting for her funeral,but after seven years, I havegiven up hope of that happening. I did visit my birth mother’sgrave, placed a small  stone on hers, watered the groundwith tears of sadness and joy at…


  • I’LL BE SEEING YOU

    We live in a zoom world, one we never imagined, and one for which we will never be prepared. But it is our life now, friends and family reduced to pixels, voices disembodied.  They tell us this is the new normal, although what is normal about it is beyond logic and comprehension. We believe deeply…


  • A FOOL’S ERRAND

    Looking back, it is easy to see nowwhat was difficult then, notlooking like complete fools,we all did, but knowing that we looked like fools and wouldfor the foreseeable future,those of us lucky enoughto survive and actually have one. We knew they wanted to break us down, rebuild usin the desired format, alwaysbending to unit cohesion,following orders thoughtlessly,never…