Dear 1990s Jeff, Consider this fair warning, 2020 is totally fucked up. Can I swear at you? I know you swear frequently, I remember that stage in your life. I don’t swear anymore, except in writing where I have something of a potty-mouth, but only because written swear words carry lots of shock value—much more … Continue reading Dear 1990s Jeff
Author: Jeff Cann
Target
Oops, I ghosted my blog. Last Tuesday, I freaked out. In writing. I ranted about my blood pressure, certain kidney failure and vertigo. I thought I was dying. I was so convincing, both of my brothers texted me the next day to check up on me. I got a dozen blog comments, all saying the … Continue reading Target
When things aren’t right
This happened before, years ago, mornings just like today, a common occurrence. Over-thinking. A bad night’s sleep. Shaky. Hungover. Dry heaving. Brain-fogged. I don’t miss it. At all. I’ve worked myself into a tizzy. Tizzy (noun): a state of nervous excitement or agitation. Nervous excitement sounds fun. I’m in the agitation camp. I’m worried I’m … Continue reading When things aren’t right
O.L.D.
Susan and I walked the neighborhood loop this morning, the short version, just as the world heated up. I planned to go running, something longish—maybe eight miles on the road or seven in the woods. But I didn’t gather my stuff last night before bed, and I didn’t set an alarm for the morning. I … Continue reading O.L.D.
Hush
I like music. After work, I stopped by Kennie’s Market to grab some stuff for Sophie. She had her wisdom teeth pulled this morning, and while the surgery went perfectly, she’s sore and deserving of a treat. She planned on a smoothie for dinner. I got some bananas and Breyers Fudge Swirl ice cream. She … Continue reading Hush
A Bubble
A bubble on my ankle, slightly red, hard to see. Itchy. Soft and squishy. Immediately I think it's probably a tick. Engorged and floppy, ready to be picked. Or a worm, burrowed, safe and warm, or spider eggs buried against the bone. Thursday spent standing in tall grass and weeds, in brush and trees. Just … Continue reading A Bubble
Abagunda
I have nothing left to say. Do you ever feel this way? I started blogging in 2013. Since then I’ve published at least one story per month, and one month, during a brief period of unemployment, fifteen. I’ve used up all my material, I’ve told every story there is to tell. For years, I did … Continue reading Abagunda
#BlackLivesMatter #NotMyBag
“This is my first protest,” I said. Susan and I drove towards the square, the sign Sophie made awaiting debut, it's birth, safely strapped in our back seat. I’m not demonstrative, I don’t demonstrate. I ponder, get pissed. I tell the world exactly how I feel, quietly, on my couch, through words, written, not shouted … Continue reading #BlackLivesMatter #NotMyBag
White Guys with Guns
Happy Fourth of July. My plan for the day was to get up early and go kayaking with Susan. The kayaks were already on the car. Eli went kayaking yesterday with his friend, Jonah, and we never put them away (the kayaks, not the kids). While it’s not a huge deal to load the kayaks … Continue reading White Guys with Guns
Guys Like Me
All in the Family, a sit-com from the seventies: Racist Archie Bunker and his cloying, supplicant wife Edith faced off weekly against their head-strong daughter and her liberal, snowflake husband. At the start of every show, Archie and Edith (Carroll O'Connor and Jean Stapleton) sat at a piano and sang Those Were the Days, the … Continue reading Guys Like Me
Roz
Roz. For me, the name evokes images of a past-prime babe. The girl who peaked in her teens. Now hanging out at a bar. Boozy, desperate. Trying to recapture the glory of her youth. Not yet old, but getting there, and definitely worn out. That’s the image I see, anyway. We all have name biases. … Continue reading Roz
We must do better
January 20, 2021. 8:00 PM EST. The screen fades from black. The president stares intently at the camera. He takes a deep breath and lets it out with an audible sigh. My fellow Americans, the time for games is over. It’s time to stop pointing fingers—at politicians, at medical institutions, at other countries. We can’t … Continue reading We must do better
My Game Changer
Sophie shuffles across the kitchen, stepping between fresh fruit, bagels and cans of beans, all waiting to be sanitized from Covid 19. She opens up the dishwasher setting off a domino-cascade of boxes—Golden Grahams, mac and cheese, baking soda. I snort. She rolls her eyes. “You guys could at least put away the shopping before … Continue reading My Game Changer
Why?
Why does conservative America care about my sexuality? About your sexuality? And why is it a threat? Why are equal rights for all viewed as fewer rights for them? Why do they care if Kaepernick wants to kneel? Does America-the-free only encompass not wearing a mask? Why can't #BlackLivesMatter without causing offense? Why do … Continue reading Why?
Transition to Greatness
Give me a fucking break. LANGUAGE! Back when I worked at the Y, “language” was my admonishment when I heard people, usually in the men’s locker room, swearing. I have the cursing conversation frequently with my kids. “Use your vocabulary, see if you can find a better word. Not only will people think you’re more … Continue reading Transition to Greatness
Guilt
A couple days ago, Joe died from depression. The cause of death will be listed as suicide, but I vehemently disagree. As my mother died, her liver shut down. Slowly her blood became toxic. She became loopy and then disoriented and finally settled into a painful, moaning stupor. And then she died. I never saw … Continue reading Guilt
Cliff-hanger pt. 2
Is there a part one? I don’t know. I wrote a post like this once before, but I can’t remember what I called it. After I write a post, the story continues. At times, I want to fill in the blanks, write about the outcome. Here are a few on my mind today. Man-Crush: Remember … Continue reading Cliff-hanger pt. 2
Distopia
I read this today: “worst health crisis since 1918… worst recession since 1933… worst race riots since 1968.” This is the worst start to a hurricane season, ever. Second day, already three named storms. Eli told me on Sunday about the internet chatter he’s been seeing. The super volcano under Yellowstone National Park is getting … Continue reading Distopia
Radio Raheem
For me, it started with Radio Raheem. 1989: At twenty-seven I wasn’t woke. We didn’t use that term then, which is fine with me because I find it beyond annoying. Better adjectives for me included immature, self-absorbed, sheltered, suburban. In 1988, I moved into Washington, DC. Not into what would be considered a nice neighborhood. … Continue reading Radio Raheem
Dead Woman Hollow
It’s my home away from home, my staycation, my stomping grounds, at least for Memorial Day weekend. Dead Woman Hollow is a narrow, wooded valley sandwiched between two smallish Appalachian mountains in southern Pennsylvania. And as it turns out, for this weekend, it’s my principal destination. Thirty-two years and a couple of weeks ago, two … Continue reading Dead Woman Hollow
