The Heart. . .

—From EF— What’s at the heart? I took a photo of a big soft silvery bushy plant at our favorite coffee place, Hardcore Espresso. Molly has a wild collection of things growing in everything from old phone booths to half-bathtubs, a fertile profusion as wild and...

Gender. . .

—From CB— There have been a series of posts promoting a “rule by women.” Despite the sad track record of many past & present female politicians, I think there might be a positive change … for a while. But to presume that any person, no matter what sex, sexual...

Learning from Shadow. . .

—From EF— I have two cats, brother littermates: Garfunkel (known as Garfy), and Shadow. Garfy is a big burly shorthair who loves to be squeezed and has a purr you could hear in Cotati. Shadow is a smaller longhair with delicate bones, incredibly soft fur, and a purr...

Marriage. . .

—From CB— The question came up on Facebook of “What makes for a successful marriage?” Most replies were jokes, of course: “A quick divorce,” “Saying ‘Yes dear,’ to everything,” “Lots of booze,” etc. In general, marriage has a pretty bad reputation, yet for something...

Sparks Fly Upward…

—From EF— The Book of Job said it: “Yet man is born unto trouble, As the sparks fly upward.” This might sound like evasion, for there was already a plan in place to run Job through the wringer. Best to say it was his predestined heritage. In a recent...

Action News. . .

—From CB— Writing fiction at least keeps one out of trouble. It takes lots of time, it’s likely that few will read it, and so much accumulates even in the time it takes to read this, that like a fruit-fly life it’s gone before sunset. So why do it instead of more...

Reunions. . .

—From EF— I’m gonna try again. I traveled to my high school reunion—a first for me—last July and didn’t get there. O’Hare was closed to all air traffic by a whopper of a storm, and I spent the night sleeping (?) on the cold tile floor of the St....

Trees. . .

—From CB— I’m not a tree-hugger. The notion of spiders or ants crawling into my sleeves or around my collar is a huge turn-off. In fact I don’t like nature much, except to look at. Definitely I don’t like politicians who want to pave it over; it still contains a lot...

You Decide. . .

—From EF— Joe Hill. World War I. — Tom Joad. World War II. — Paul Robeson at Sydney Opera House. Vietnam War. I’m writing this on the cusp of Memorial Day, 2024. A couple of years ago I put up a Memorial Day photo of my father taken in Paris, in a basement...

Armoring. . .

—From CB— I’ve never had occasion for self-analysis. Not that I haven’t done it: as a writer, both of comedy and otherwise, you’re constantly looking for material. Whether it’s a TV weatherman shopping for a new personality (Song Stories, 1974) or an investment broker...