an old writer and his words

  • LAUNDRY LOVE

    In the older romcom moviesthere was often a meetcutetaking place in a laundromat. I have spent far too many hoursin laundromats when travelingon extended business trips. I found one in Santa Cruzwith a coffee shop and figuredit was where romance would bloom. I spend more than a few hourswatching but while the coffeewas always pouring,…

    Lou Faber

  • IMMEASUREABLE

    The distance between truthand belief is as small as the widthof a hydrogen atom, yetas wide as the diameterof a galaxy of your choice. You say truth is relative, Iknow that it can morphin the face of circumstancebut that hardly makesrelativity a factor in truth. You say you believe in truth,at least as you see…

    Lou Faber

  • ILL SUITED

    My father wanted to takeme to buy my first suit, saidhe knew a tailor who couldfashion one perfect formy pending Bar Mitzvah,a nice wool blend, he said. Mother about threw a fit.“Take him to the departmentstore or even Goodwill,for God’s sake, he’s onlygoing to wear it once.” My father had learnedthat some battles are bestleft…

    Lou Faber

  • ARISING

    It is far too early to think about that,although many would sayit is already far too late. That is the conundrumin which we find ourselves,defining our options, drawingpolitical lines that arenot dare crossed unless youaccept there can be no return. And those who say it’stoo early, it can wait, must hopethat they can emulatethe Phoenix…

    Lou Faber

  • GREAT DANGER

    There are those who saythat we are engagedin a culture war, and thatmay be an apt description,even as it misses its mark. It is hardly cultures thatare at war, but those whotake shelter under theirfalse mantle, armoredin labels, shielded by cliches. But the weapons of the warare quite real, knownfor ages, Stalin and Alexiecalling them…

    Lou Faber

  • UNMOVED

    In the community parking lotin the center of Taos,and old pickup sat complacentmore than parked, rustingin spots, last paintedby someone in the late ‘70sperhaps. It might havebeen able to move, but itshowed no desire to do so,tires not flat but wishing so. That was thirteen years ago,and it is likely no longerthere, or collapsed into…

    Lou Faber

  • IT WILL BE EASY

    It will be easy, he says, you justfish a wire down inside the wall,find the hole you cut, put inthe box and wire it up,no big deal at all, easy really. She grimaced immediately,then turned away from him to sigh,for she knew that any time a mandecided something was easy,no big deal, a day or…

    Lou Faber

  • LANDING

    She sends us a map showing on which tribe’s land we are now living. This is not something we have thought about, not something we want to think about, for that would demand that we are the usurpers, the horde whose pogrom was ultimately successful, and that is a face that refuse to see in…

    Lou Faber

  • THE WALL

    The wall is black granite, highly polished be an unseen hand and the fingers of countless thousands present but each unseen by the others. At first glance you want to count the names, but you lack fingers enough for the task and others are quickly withdrawn as are their eyes. You know where the names…

    Lou Faber

  • FATHER AND SON

    We sat in the small boat,the motor still, drifting downstream,our lines in the water, the bobbersdancing in the morning breeze. He smiled, proud that we weredoing this together, he who knewless about fishing than I, his son,and I knowing next to nothing. I kept casting into the weeds,hoping they would tangle myline, free the worm…

    Lou Faber