Roids and The Wunderkammer

Following receipt of a stern text from Wanda, my personal physician and mentor regarding the many legal ways to prolong a problematic existence, I swallow a substance that causes profound side effects.

I am no stranger to substances that produce unusual effects and, in fact, consider myself (similarly inclined peers being long dead) to be one of the few tested adepts remaining in action. For more than six decades, I’ve sampled and enjoyed a variety of treats that produce off-kilter experiences, and I show little sign I’ll stray from the path.

But, in this case, recreation and enlightenment are not in the picture. Continue reading

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Back From the Hole, Into Fresh Water

I’m at the bottom of a deep hole.

I have things to do: pieces to write, paintings to finish.

I can’t get to them.

I’m in a hole.

It’s dark down here, torturous. Reckoned in terms of pain produced, each minute spent in the hole equals eight uninterrupted hours of TED Talks. Continue reading

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Modalities and Me

It’s morning.

Kathy has been up for an hour. She drank three cups of herbal tea, watched a video alerting her to the dangers of lectins, and is at the keyboard, singing at top volume, rehashing show tunes from her time in musical theater.

I’m in bed, the covers pulled to my chin. With “Two Midnights Gone” in the background, I come to a realization: I need to undergo a change before my final act moves to resolution. A big change. Soon. Continue reading

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Boris, Al, Jim, and a Pinched Scrotum

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.

 

Me, Boris.

Boris Ballsack.

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

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