This afternoon I was going through some old emails and ran across this message from my brother, sent last year on Thanksgiving day. It’s the last email I received from him. I never replied. He died three months later. The meaning of Thanksgiving……as I see it these days. I’ve found more feeling about this celebration day. Trying to dig a little deeper into how I see my life lately has made me realize how lucky I am. I have friends …Read the Rest
Young Tom watched in fear as his brothers, uncles, and finally his father were taken away by the big man in the blood-soaked coat. None of them had said a word; had only stared wide-eyed each time the door was opened and one after another of them were pulled out. Tom had urged them to fight, had tried to convince the group that together they could rush the man, knock him down and somehow escape the camp. But Tom’s father …Read the Rest
It’s that time of year again, so that means risking life and limb climbing a wobbly stepladder to the uppermost reaches of the bedroom closet to retrieve the several dozen boxes which contain the Nordic Warrior Queen’s Department 56 North Pole Collection. You know what I’m talking about, right? Those little overpriced replica houses, factories, and buildings, with names like The Gumdrop Shop, The Elf Bunkhouse, The North Pole Post Office, and The Reindeer Stables, complete with miniature Donner and …Read the Rest
The Nordic Warrior Queen is getting up in age and has started to feel the aches and pains of her approaching fifties. Her neck and back hurts, and she blames the bed. I told her she just needs to get her feet up in the air more often but she’s not buying it. So after much discussion, we decided to get a new mattress (to see where the old one went, read “Chasing the Sonata”). First off, I think the …Read the Rest
I had one of those business appointments where you’re not supposed to wear jeans and a t-shirt. I hate wearing a tie. Still though, I looked pretty good, at least for an old machinist. Until you looked down, that is. I was in desperate need of a shoeshine. My shoes looked like crap. There was a problem, however; sometime during the last couple of moves, I seem to have misplaced the shoepolish. That, or the Nordic Warrior Queen threw it …Read the Rest
My birthday was last month. Oh, you missed it? That’s okay, belated birthday gifts are always welcome. But it got me thinking: the next one is my fiftieth. The Big Five-OH. So I figured it was time to open a savings account.Retirement is only a few years away, right? I had a few bucks saved up, but where to put it? Under my mattress was just giving me a backache, but the fucking banks are only offering .01%, or less. …Read the Rest
I think all this dressing up for Halloween is silly. What’s the point, after all? Everyone knows there are no witches and goblins, no werewolves or vampires or ghosts. Still, the free candy is something I look forward to, so I play along. Just to be a good sport. Some people say I’m a little old for trick-or-treating, but it’s only once a year, so what’s the big deal? So yesterday afternoon, during a trial run of my costume, I …Read the Rest
Chasing the Sonata (click to see actual video of chase scene) When the Captain asked if I could help bring his old mattress to his parent’s house, of course I agreed. It turns out the Homeless Lady was tired of sleeping on the futon, and since Jamie and the Captain had just upgraded to a King-size mattress (Jamie, like her mother the Nordic Warrior Queen, is a bed hog), it only made sense to donate the thing to a worthy …Read the Rest
I have a book at home. It sits on the bottom shelf, the pages are dusty, the cover torn; I haven’t read it for years. The title is “A Place in the Woods” by Helen Hoover, and tells the story of a married couple who one day decide to dump everything and flee suburban life for a fresh start in the woods of northern Minnesota. My brother gave me the book for Christmas when I was nine or ten, in …Read the Rest
I took the Nighthawk out into the desert, well away from the sneering grin of The Stallion and his covey of fellow grocery handlers. I practiced mornings, nights, and weekends. The Nighthawk was a little hard to handle at first, but I kept her close to the ground, her mighty engines throttled back enough such that any mishaps would not be fatal ones. Within weeks, I was ready to face The Stallion and his smug, condescending tone. I unveiled the …Read the Rest