I have a blood cancer, multiple myeloma. I adapt to its complications. My skin mottles. Smears of color come and go and return. I admire the abstract tattoos on my hands and forearms. Numbed by drugs and disease and age, my brain and body wander. I am sometimes awkward on my feet. I prefer solitude. … More The Indifferent Gardener
“The American male doesn’t mature until he has exhausted all other possibilities.” Wilfred Sheed I had my share of angst about what to be when I grew up. I felt lost and uncertain about the future. I avoided expectations by dropping out. I moved to the mountains. It was the right thing to do, given … More When I Grow Up
It’s the winter of life. Ads for funeral services pepper my mailbox. Mortuaries stalk people my age. The implication, I suppose, is that I don’t have too many decades left. It’s nice to be wanted. Eventually, I’ll buy what they have to sell. But, for now, I’ll wait. There are more songs to write. It’s … More The Winter of Life
Normally, this time of year, my wife and I would be traveling to San Francisco to visit relatives. Our son, niece, and my brother’s family live in the Bay Area. For the last several Christmases we’ve vacationed there. We take in a movie each day and dine out each night. It’s the perfect getaway to … More 2020
In September, smoke from wildfires shut down activities in much of Oregon. An eerie mustard colored sky shrouded the community of Hood River. The burnt smell of the air created a vacancy reminiscent to March/April’s sheltering in place. Eyes itched and stung; throats seized up dry and scratchy. People were dispossessed of how to pass … More What Next?
I can’t remember how I learned to read. I don’t recall the teacher’s patience to help me sound out vowels and consonants. Nor the prompts to form these sounds into words. Was I encouraged at home by my parents? If so, there’s no memory. That process disappeared with time. Yet, the gradual step by step … More In the Oregon Hills
Cancer requires one to slow down and simplify their life. Predictability in ongoing routines helps me to manage an otherwise unpredictable disease. Finding peace in a time of uncertainty is the goal. Once a month, I receive a dose of immunoglobulins. It’s a support treatment. It doesn’t kill cancer cells. Instead, it boosts my immune … More Summer Daze
In the early spring in this year of the pandemic we live in a house on a street that divides the city from the county. The trees in the fruit orchards nearby are past peak blossom and west winds scatter their petals onto the pavement. Strangers walk by the house, in groups of two or … More Deserted Streets, Empty Spaces
“Meanwhile, someplace in the world, somebody is making love and another a poem.” From Figuring by Maria Popova I fed hummingbirds all winter. Each time I thought they had departed for a warmer climate, they would appear and take a big slurp from the feeder. I received two petunia plants in September. They continue to … More Today Will Not Be Here Tomorrow
I dislike flying: the herding, the depressing bag of pretzels, and the claustrophobic cabin. It’s a perfect environment for disease transmission and my immune system can’t protect me. Yet, the opportunity to spend the holidays with our oldest son, my brother, and nieces and nephews compelled my wife and I to fly to the San … More Stanyan Street
