Monthly Archives: August 2019

It is once again the end of August and I am not in the classroom, facing a new set of faces. But the first of September brings that feeling back, setting up a seating chart, learning their names, figuring out who … Continue reading →

Aunt Edna did her shopping on Piedmont Avenue. She bought freshly baked bread from a bakery and two tiny loaves, one for Paul and one for me, miniature replicas of the full-sized loaves and when we got home, she sliced … Continue reading →

The Rally Committee.  Twenty-one of us, chosen by the vice principal, all of us jocks distributed among football, basketball, track, baseball, swimming, tennis and golf.  There were whites, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, a mixture and it wasn’t until I was in … Continue reading →

  Late this year, a new book will emerge. This is a different book for me, a series of essays, short narratives, things that deal with the relationship between streams and dogs and people’s lives and deaths, and memory. Among … Continue reading →

one of Russell Chatham’s paintings here are some notes from the best of writers, notes that every writer should pay attention to:  Cormac McCarthy: You can’t plot  things out.  You just have to trust in, you know, wherever it comes from. … Continue reading →

On the California Zephyr to Truckee. I rode this train  60 years ago with Ray Gerba, rode it as far as Reno. Ray was bound for Chicago and another compartment on a first class train to somewhere.  It was what Ray … Continue reading →

OK, that was unnecessary.  It might be the opening page of a mystery novel.  Now the man has to be hunted down and obviously he’s got a few screws loose. And there seem to be too many of those people around … Continue reading →

The post office was empty for a change and the man placed the package on the counter. “For my son,” he said.  “He lives on the North Coast.” “Anything inflammable or explosive in the package such as perfume or batteries?” … Continue reading →