It is late autumn, the aspen have turned. We crest the summit of the pass.
A strong tailwind pushes us as we begin our descent.
My new name, according to my wife, Kathy.
I come by the first name following a visit to a Russian market in Denver.
My new surname is prompted during a road trip with extended hours at the wheel, and ill-fitted underwear. As a man gets old, precious body parts sag, and when caught up by similarly sagging inner thighs and fabric… Continue reading
I’m old, cruising into the home stretch. I don’t have a lot of time left. I couldn’t care less about most of the crap I deemed important years ago. I’ve dumped a lot of luggage at the roadside during this last leg of my trip.
I don’t require much now, so I take a spin as a temporary Man of the People. Or “Pepple,” as my friend Johnny says.
I’m in the MoP mode for a month. Continue reading
Every three months I receive a page-poor promo magazine in the mail, sent from the school I attended — then a college, now a university —and at which I taught for a number of years. Note: a reader should regard “attended” and “taught” as generous descriptions of my activities.
The mag arrives today. I deploy a dropper’s worth of my pal Joe’s special elixir, whip up a refreshing beverage, and give the publication a once-over during the cocktail hour — 2 to 7 p.m. weekdays, noon to 10 p.m. weekends, though I intend to ask Wanda, my personal physician and consultant regarding all things physical and metaphysical, if it’s safe to extend the weekday block by an hour or three. Continue reading
Trouble’s on the way.
I receive a warning as clear as a roar and rumble created in 1850 by 50,000 buffalo as they stampede across a wide plain towards a rickety wagon jammed with fever-blasted settlers. Listen! Here comes trouble: duck and cover, and hope for the best.
My indicator? Kathy is up at 6 a.m., at the piano, singing “No Ways Tired” at top volume, an octave too high. I cherish the Barrett Sisters’ version of the song; the only time I wept without restraint at a concert was when I heard the Barrett Sisters perform this song in the early 80s. Kathy’s rendition this morning could shatter glass. The tension is palpable, disaster of some sort looms. Continue reading