In the darkest nights of winter, Susan and I jog deserted streets. Channeling Jackson Pollock, our swinging hands gripping flashlights scribble vanishing art across the pavement. In the blackness, there’s nothing to see save two beams as they dance and bounce first behind and then before us. We don’t talk. The patterns in our foot-falls … Continue reading Meditate
Collapse
In the movies I watch, calamity—an alien attack, an errant meteor, a rampant pandemic—unifies humanity. Nations, once enemies, begin to work together. Political divides evaporate. We become a global team battling a common foe. That’s the prevailing attitude. Let’s work for the common good. Walking out of the theater I bask in a warming glow. … Continue reading Collapse
Unwelcome Attention
Oblivious. Or maybe an open ear, monitoring the room. Yes, probably that, so just an impression of oblivion. I don’t stop myself; I bury my nose in the junction of her neck and shoulder, dry and downy, and inhale the sweet perfume of clean. One eye opens, staring, not at me, but across the room, … Continue reading Unwelcome Attention
Walking a Wobbly Rope
David Sedaris called me an amateur. OK, let’s discuss the obvious: David Sedaris doesn’t know me; Although I have earned money writing, I’d hardly call myself a professional; Really, he only called one of my writing habits ‘amateur.’ Not me personally. Still, it hurt. Who’s David Sedaris? You’re kidding, right? In this gigantic WordPress world … Continue reading Walking a Wobbly Rope
Quarantine
Crap. Now I have it too. For five weeks, I’ve obsessed over the coronavirus. With my browser open to CNN’s COVID-19 Live Updates, every time they posted any new tidbit of information, I got an alert. I watched the charts and stats and calculated death rates, growth rates and recovery rates. I watched a slow-motion … Continue reading Quarantine
Calm, Content, Relaxed
We layer sensibly. Wicking shirts hanging long over nylon tights. Hats and gloves. A gaiter for my neck—frigid air makes me hunch my shoulders, run stiffly. Today, the coldest day this year. But not uncomfortably so—in the twenties, not the teens. We slip into our running shells as we leave the house. Neon, both of … Continue reading Calm, Content, Relaxed
Hello depression, my old friend
I can’t breathe. Well, obviously that isn’t true. I can’t breathe easily. If I don’t keep thinking about it, I hold my breath. Guarded. Awaiting something bad to happen. I just walked home from work. It’s about a mile, a little more. I left work sick. Sick and worried that one of my coworkers would … Continue reading Hello depression, my old friend
Crash. And Burn.
Finally, a run that didn’t suck. In late November, I wrote about CJ’s Resolution Challenge—a timed trail-race a couple hours from home. You run a 1.6 mile loop for three hours. Whoever runs the most loops wins (I didn't win). In late December, I wrote a follow-up post called T Minus Two Weeks talking about … Continue reading Crash. And Burn.
And Again
Back when we still paid for cable, I sat, mid-morning on my carpeted floor, back against the couch, a sandwich and chips by my side, and watched hurricane coverage. As the hurricane made landfall, I couldn’t pull myself away from the Weather Channel. I waited and waited for something, anything to happen. Never mind that … Continue reading And Again
Pandemic, again
We're all gonna die someday Lord; we're all gonna die someday. Mama's on pills, daddy's over the hill, but we're all gonna die someday. --Kasey Chambers Oops. I wasn’t going to do this. Last week, I wrote Pandemic—an upbeat post about my OCD as related to the current news cycle. The Wuhan coronavirus wasn’t freaking … Continue reading Pandemic, again
Outside my Comfort Zone
Just like that, I’m a spin instructor again. Do you know about spin? It’s an exercise class. Stationary bikes semi-circled around a leader (that’s me). I select the music, choreograph the workout, think of motivating things to say. The part I like most about spin is that anyone—at any fitness level—can participate. A seventy-five-year-old can … Continue reading Outside my Comfort Zone
Pandemic
Ten days from now: “What can I get for you?” “Four Coronas with limes. We’re celebrating!” “Oh, what’re you celebrating? “The first human to human transmission of the coronavirus in the United States. We’re celebrating the beginning of the end.” This hasn’t happened. Yet. Probably. Maybe. It will though. Any excuse to party, right? I’m … Continue reading Pandemic
Curmudgeon
Reg Henry showed me the way. Or maybe he took my dream job. Either. Both. Whatever. Who’s Reg Henry? He used to be the Deputy Editorial Page Editor of the Pittsburgh-Post Gazette. That’s your dream job? The Deputy Editorial Page Editor of the Pittsburgh-Post Gazette is probably an important position. And a nice culmination to … Continue reading Curmudgeon
Cutting the Strings
Sophie drove the rental car. I don’t think it’s allowed. I told the agent we have three drivers; he didn’t mention any restrictions. He never asked her age, so I never told. Still, I doubt they want a seventeen-year-old driving their car. She leaves at 5:30, Tuesdays and Thursdays. “Text us when you get there, … Continue reading Cutting the Strings
Finding the Multiverse
Let’s start with a definition: The multiverse is an infinite realm of being or potential being of which the universe is regarded as a part or instance. Ha ha, just kidding. That’s actually the definition Google gave me, but it does me no good; I don’t understand it. Let’s try Merriam-Webster: a theoretical reality that … Continue reading Finding the Multiverse
300
How many blog posts is a lot? L. Stevens over at Everyday Strange does a daily quote. And poems, and a weekly calendar, and micro-fiction. I’ve been following her for years. She must have over a thousand posts. Same with Jo Hawk the Writer, she sometimes posts three times a day, how many times has … Continue reading 300
Blockade
The ramshackle jumble of tumble-down trees builds a blockade at the edge of my yard. Brown, mostly brown with highlights of muted green—ivy smothered trees, frozen, dried, projecting brown as well. So brownish on brown, in fading light it’s hard to focus on any one object. Fifteen years ago, my house freshly purchased, no deadfall, … Continue reading Blockade
A Safe Ending
Sophie stayed out past curfew. Not the curfew Susan and I set—we didn’t set one—but the curfew set by the state of Pennsylvania: seventeen-year-old drivers are banned from the road by eleven. Sophie’s never had a parental curfew; she’s never stayed out unreasonably late, and she’s never done anything to make us doubt her judgement. … Continue reading A Safe Ending
Naked
“I was on your website this morning; I don’t get it.” This was my dad. I saw him yesterday for my extended family Christmas celebration. This post isn’t about family relationships, but of course it could be. We all have so much fertile ground to till on that topic. But then I wouldn’t be writing … Continue reading Naked
Slog
Slog. (verb) Work hard—toil, labor, grind, slave. Walk or move with difficulty or effort—trudge, tramp, traipse, trek, plod. Slow going. No, really, I mean slow! Two miles uphill. At first, I ran. A mile, maybe less. The hill steepens; I start my slog. My son Eli and I tried to bike this trail two weeks … Continue reading Slog
The Other Stuff 