I Could be wrong, but…
Why are you here? You could be scrolling Twitter.
Summer Jam at Watkins Glen
ONE “Alexander, take the money.” Alex glanced at the worn ten-dollar bill in Mr. Henri’s work-battered hand. “Thanks,” he said. “I appreciate the offer.” Rather than take the money, he grabbed his backpack from the bare metal floor of the old pickup truck, and...
Deep River
In the last hours of a late July day in 1976, Alexander Selkirk walked two miles down the descriptively named Long Hill Road until he came to the town green, a two-acre triangle of land with a scattering of old shade trees. Passing the small black canon, anchored to a...
If I Had a Hammer
"It is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail.”—Abraham Maslow Somewhere far upstream in the river of moments that is my Life, in the darkness of an early November evening in Bangor, Maine, as snowflakes the size of...
The Slingshot Effect
It’s New Year’s Eve. Tomorrow is 1984. Orwell’s year. Alive 26 years, I’ve yet to devise a plan or discover a goal. For tonight, or for the rest of my life. I’ve spent most of the day inside my studio apartment, my box, on the top floor of a five-floor walkup in the...
Observations of an Anthropologist from Another Planet…
There are, I think, four freedoms we can glean from the Republican program. There is the freedom to control — to restrict the bodily autonomy of women and repress the existence of anyone who does not conform to traditional gender roles. There is the freedom to exploit...
My New Town
ONE One thing leads to another. In July 2012 I moved to a new town and by December I was sorely in need of a haircut. I found the place to get my hair cut by first finding an Irish pub. I found the pub by first finding a new trail, and hiking on it until sunset, which...