an old writer and his words

  • IN HIDING

    I am not certain whether it is happenstanceor God just has a wicked sense of humor.I love the idea of fruit, something wonderfulhiding under a protective skin, and by fruitI mean anything developing from the ovaryof a flowering plant, so avocados are fruit.The sense of humor comes from the designGod chose, the outer covering that…

    Lou Faber

  • NOT THOSE AGAIN

    Mother always bought Hydrox cookiesand I thought nothing of it, althoughI did wonder why my friends said thatkind of cookie was best dipped in milk.I dipped our Hydrox in milk and theyfell apart, a soggy mess and not quitea chocolate milk that anyone would drink.It was years later I learned thatthere was another brand which…

    Lou Faber

  • DO THEY CARE?

    I cannot begin to imagine what the birds that overtake our small wetland each evening must think of us. They must know we stare at them as they congregate in the last light of the departing sun. I do know they flaunt their freedom, moving through the sky at one moment gracefully, at another with…

    Lou Faber

  • ELLISON WAS HERE

    I still remember sitting raptly listening to youread a story you promised would bein your next collection, Harlan, or certainlythe one after that, after all you were a writerand without writing you were a marginalcharacter in the story of a city given overto film and television and you were no actor.You were fearless, you told…

    Lou Faber

  • SEPPUKU

    It is difficult to acceptthat the glutinous blobcongealed on the plate beneaththe salt lick worthy pilesof ill cooked vegetablesand fried tofu now limpwas ever related tothe swaying stalks in neat rowsbetween flooded furrows,under the watchful eyea Fujiyama and theShinto gods residing there.What would the old farmerbent over by time thinkif he could see whatlay before…

    Lou Faber

  • CABERNET

    Sitting at the table lookingat a glass of cabernet sauvignonits legs long reaching from rimto dwindling pool I ask myselfif I could imagine tending the vinesin France or more likely Napawatching the purple orbs take formand cluster, caring for the canesthat have deemed themselvestoo old to bear any longer.My knees are tired and dirtycutting the…

    Lou Faber

  • LOOKOUT

    The osprey sits atopthe light pole on the streetalongside the small lake.His morning songis enchanting, but as weapproach, he pauses itand stares down.Is he staring at the lakeseeing the motionof a fish soon to becomehis next meal?That would makesense, but he seemsinstead to be staringat me as I walk byand I have to wonderif he…

    Lou Faber

  • WHICH

    Tomorrow it will beFriday again, so we knowthe decision is looming, one wehave grown used to, one that weagonize over although in any schemeof things it is trivial at best.But here we are trying to decidewhich of two coffee shops weshould visit tomorrow morning,a bagel and cortado at either,one close, nice and pedestrianbut with the…

    Lou Faber

  • A PEELING

    Why do we persistin peeling the onionas if expecting wewill find anythingother than onion below?We cling to false hopeknowing in the endthere will be nothingdespite our efforts.We are the oneswho curse the coreof the apple asspace taken wherefruit should benever imaginingthere could be nofruit if nature choseto grant our wish.

    Lou Faber

  • FAIR WARNING

    There are many lessons you learnduring even a moderately full life.Some of great value, others trifles,but each unique in some way, henceit being a lesson at all and notan echo of what you already knew.One lesson I clearly recall is that younever, after eating a meal of Japanese foodwith far too much sake, tell the…

    Lou Faber