Month: December 2017

The secret to having good ideas is having a lot of ideas and discarding the bad ones. Titles have always been difficult for me. Whether for songs (“Out-of-Town Tuna Fish”), albums (Songs from the Zen Baptist Tradition), poems (“Drowning in the Fountain of Eternal Life”), stories (“Let Me Begin Again”) or novels (What Trouble Looks … Continue reading Rejected Book Titles

I’m usually up by 6:15 or so, but I’m fighting a chest cold and stayed up late last night reading a collection of essays by Norman Mailer. It wasn’t the reading that kept me from sleeping, but my mental need to wash my brain of well-reasoned if brash thinking. After all, it’s my job to … Continue reading Ray Booska, I’m Doing Fine and Love You, Brother

It’d be nice to love money for money’s sake. I’ve had friends whose happiness and peace of mind were directly proportional to how much money they were making and how much they had socked away. It’s a simple formula that yields results like: “I’m only making $40,000 a year and I’ve only got $2,000 in … Continue reading Possible, But Not Inevitable: My Strange Relationship with Money

My grandmother, Barbie, died within days of John Kennedy’s assassination, although without the conspiracies, the wall-to-wall television coverage or the grassy knoll. I had just turned five in November, 1963, and had the mumps when Kennedy was killed and Barbie died of breast cancer. Since I had to stay home from kindergarten, my only strong … Continue reading Cute, With a Side of Evil

When it’s 17 degrees below zero, with a projected high of -6, everything changes. Even dogs. This morning, when Sam (is a dog) and I woke up, it was 40 degrees inside the Tiny White Box. Sam, who doesn’t complain much, looked up at me to ask, “What the hell? If it’s that cold inside … Continue reading Cool Cats? Yes. Cold Dogs? No Thanks.

I really like Christmas, but I know not everybody does. One group that Christmas can attack with a vengeance is people who are early (for this, let’s say 1 day to 2 years) in their recovery from drug and alcohol abuse. Another group in danger is folks who are solidly recovered and at an intermediate … Continue reading Swimming Together, Not Drowning Alone

Last night, Christmas Eve, at about 7:20, I got the best Christmas present I can think of. There was a Joseph (or at least a Joe), but no Mary. Instead, there was a Tracy with Joe, and together they lifted me higher than I’ve been in a long, long time.  Let me explain. For five … Continue reading A Pair of Christmas Miracles

For a non-religious agnostic, I write about spiritual matters a lot.  As I’ve said before, I pray about 47 times a day, and always the same prayer, “Thank you, God.”  This prayer is uttered, internally or externally, with no concern about whether there is any receiver for the message.  Expressing gratitude seems to make my … Continue reading Drinking from a Dead Guy’s Cup

I was a different person 21 Christmases ago. I was director of an alternative school in Henniker. I was a married homeowner. Libby, my youngest daughter, was only five weeks old, and her mother was recovering from burned feet, one of medical history’s strangest complications from an emergency hysterectomy. Because of those injuries, we had … Continue reading A Child’s Christmas in Agnostica