November 8, 2023
Taking five from Janey’s artist’s residency and my Wordfest Conference at Banff. Lake Louise behind us and the ground a solid nine-degrees F. Met Anthony Marra for the first time at Wordfest who commented that we have all betrayed or been betrayed enough by the time we’re twelve to write a pretty great novel. Also, Eleanor Catton read from her recently Man Booker awarded “Luminaries.” Later that night, she and I shared some stories and laughs over a couple beers.
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It was in art school and Bob and I worked at the county hospital. This night, he was in the other building and I’d done a lot of clean up and heavy lifting. But, I was twenty, so no big deal. Things had settled in the ward as they do (ebbs and flows), so I
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Looking through my way old sketchbook: She soared low through the trouble, the tangles and the roar and had a better look – to see closer for herself. She would take word back, everything seen first hand, and the others would intervene on Earth and make it better. The rumors were true. Down here was
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Four years ago I visited my sister a few miles beyond the village of Trout Run, PA. Hers is a rural address overlooking a beautiful valley and lake. Long day of travel, nine at night, and I had a taste for a few beers. I went down to the quiet village and found the local
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No answer to her knock. Sloshing traffic and hammering rain – gutters full and coming over the walks. Okay, this is cool. Place is dry, I’ll chill ‘til it slows down. Knock again in a couple minutes. She leaned her bike, pulled off her bag, sat down and got comfortable with her back against the door. She reached
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Here, she had dated. Tried dating. Gave it a good try, and it was awful. Men who seemed smart, accomplished and charming turned out to be full of themselves and desperate to regain lost ground—lost hair, lost muscle. The head of the chamber society, the dentist, the district attorney and they had gone to movies,
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It’s Saturday night under the lights, and it’s Speedway Racing in anywhere, USA. It’s cold, the motors are revving and riders are nervous and so are girlfriends, husbands and wives. Riders get screwed up out there at 100mph and go over the fence. Crippled and retired pros help tune the bikes and give advice to
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He was taking a long-needed piss. He watched himself in the mirror over the toilet and it looked like his eyes were on fire. Really fucked from the neck up. Bad skin, and it had never been good. So what? He still wore the new suit and tie, and, from the neck down, it looked
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It’s a 22 oz framing hammer. It was swung by a younger man eight-hours a day, five days a week. The head has teeth to bite into inaccurate strikes and continue the nail’s drive as the driver intended. Back in the day I saw one save a man as he fell from a roof and
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It’s a daily mile-and-a-half walk through the woods at Tahoe to the little marina for a six-pack. Some say a mile-and-eight-tenths, but I’m sticking with a mile-and-a-half. I pass this little structure and today got to thinking of who might have built it back there in the 1920s. Somebody’s grandfather, I guess. Large man who
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The six years I worked in a bike shop I became aware of the critical inflections of, “Dude.” Also, I dove deep into bike porn: wheel and tire sizes, mid-compact crank vs. compact crank, SRAM vs. Shimano, number of spokes per wheel and it goes on. “Dude!” “Dude.” I had been the oldest guy (by
HJ Brennan 