…that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and mid-nights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country…
So it’s Father’s Day, and I’m feeling a little melancholy, which friends have picked up on. See, my dad had a case of bad timing, passing four years ago. Now, every Father’s Day ad takes me behind the curtain at Westmoreland Hospital to long hours sitting with dad’s comatose body, passing the time watching medicines…
An old resume includes: Captain in the world’s 13th largest submarine fleet. Led “voyage of exploration through liquid space,†including a course beneath the polar icecap. Demonstrated conspicuous bravery and sound judgment in rescuing 32 civilians from surface storms, the Graveyard of Lost Ships, and attacks by giant squid. Spearheaded underwater archaeological expedition; located the…
Nothing made me feel so awesome as people spotting me in the ‘Ambush’ costume, calling out ‘Rob! I heard you were coming back!’ and running up to hug me. I didn’t know how much I missed this community–until I was welcomed back. Also, there’s a dragon.
Dad never understood what I did for a living. Something to do with writing. Then he tried to buy a Harley-Davidson, since I was grown and he was having a midlife crisis. He could ride a bike and kill himself and everything would be fine. He got turned down with poor credit. Asked for my…
Once I was at Disneyland and saw a group of Buddhist monks filing out of the Country Bear Kitchen restaurant, elderly men in salmon robes. Some children were playing tag in the crowd. One little boy, sprinting while looking backward at his friends, ran full-tilt into an old monk… …who rocked with the impact, caught…