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Latest from the Blog
Fathers and Sons
I spend a lot of time thinking about my father. I find his face in the mirror with increasing frequency. I imagine talking with him over thoughts I’m having. I’m paying bills, folding laundry, sweeping and mopping. What’s it all mean, I think. I’ll call Dad. Hey, let me call you back. I’m playing a…
Hitting the Lottery
I was born on a Friday the 13th in the Great Western Desert, the healthy, white son of middle-class parents who loved me. I was immediately swaddled and fed the standard diet of the time and place, a hearty slurry of the products of mass agriculture in post WWII America. I grew tall and strong.…
Death Comes for the Bishop
Homie probably has Covid-19, almost certainly the Omicron variant. We gave him a test yesterday, which showed negative, but we remain convinced Homie has the ‘Rona. Lots of thoughts. Little fear, which frankly is amazing. We’ve lived in fear of the virus for two years. It is what it is. Fear. Now, almost an ambivalence…
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Crow Island 