A thousand people in the street Singing songs and carrying signs Mostly say, hooray for our side This lyric (from For What It's Worth by Stephen Stills of the Buffalo Springfield) is over fifty years old. But it could have been written yesterday… literally, yesterday. Gettysburg, like much of the United States, had a Women’s … Continue reading A thousand people in the street
Michael Weeks at forty-two years old: he spends his evenings in the company of his wife, his children and his dogs. He’s fulfilled by his career; his relationships are steady; his hobbies, rewarding. He’s healthy, and he’s happy. Michael Weeks at forty-two years old: he’s lonely, divorced, dissatisfied with his friendships, miserable in his unfulfilling … Continue reading About Death
There was a time not so long ago when appalled by something Donald Trump said I’d attack my laptop spewing venom at the internet and cleanse myself and the rest of the world with the flames of my desire to negate his foul commentary with decency and righteousness. After staking out moral high-ground I held my head high smug … Continue reading Resolve (a.k.a. shithole)
Caution… old dude writing. Reading this essay requires a basic knowledge of the TV show Star Trek. Star Trek is the first show I remember watching. I’m talking prime-time now, not shows in the time-slots dedicated to reruns. When I was a kid, you could watch cartoons on TV every morning except Sunday. And an … Continue reading Computer…
Raspberry beret... The kind you find in a second hand store Raspberry beret... And when it was warm she wouldn't wear much more Twenty-five minutes. Almost non-stop. Raspberry Beret--Prince’s 1985 hit. Not the whole song, just the chorus. My mind is supposed to be clear, blank. Meditating. Not matching my gait to a pop song. … Continue reading Prince or Mat Fraser?
I’m oldish. Fifty-five. The sorry side of middle-age. When I hold open the door for a stranger, he always says “Thank you, sir.” Grey hair, wrinkles, balding. Oldish. But I’m not actually old. Not yet. I’ve got years ahead of me. I’ve got kids living at home. I’m still trying to build a career. These … Continue reading Audio Immaturity
I am killing time by blogging, I'm not saying that it's time to kill. Sometimes what I write is crap. This time, I’m blaming Eli. If you don’t frequently read my blog, you won’t know that Eli is my son. He’s twelve. His favorite activities are computer use and destroying shit—usually by fire—but always under … Continue reading Killing time on New Year’s Eve