Category: Personal

  • Hiking in the Verdugos

    Hiking in the Verdugos

    You might think I’m going to write about what happened in the United States of America yesterday, how the day was nothing more than an orgy of grievance, bold-faced lies, xenophobia, Nazi salutes, score-settling, and false bravado.  But I’m not. Because January 20th is a very significant day for me.  Two years ago, on January…

  • Triskaidekaphobia

    Triskaidekaphobia

    While I stopped “practicing” the Catholic faith of my youth decades before, I “de-converted” to use Seth Andrews’ phrase (whose book I devoured, and to whom I wrote) in March of 2019.  But de-converting is not as simple as just owning up to the fact that you don’t believe in god. I think most people…

  • Crine

    Crine

    Al Kroesch (pronounced “kresh”), his wife Faye, and their weiner dog Willie, lived across the street and six doors down from me when I was growing up in Glendale.  They were old-age retirees when I was a boy, and I trace my fastidiousness back to them.  I used to call it my “OCD” until I…

  • Merry CHRISmas

    Merry CHRISmas

    An obese, bearded man, dressed head-to-toe in what look like red velvet pajamas with white, faux-fur piping, patent leather boots, and a matching belt with a belt buckle the size of a Buick wrapped around his enormous, bulbous waist parks his wagon propelled by flying mammals on your roof. He manages to squeeze into and…

  • Fifteen

    Fifteen

    Today, and every October 4th, is the Roman Catholic feast day (commemoration) of St. Francis of Assisi, founder of the Franciscan Order, patron of animals and the environment, champion of the poor and outcast, and the namesake of my alma mater. In 1980, I was a student at Toll Junior High School, a public school…

  • Philosophus hortulanus esset

    Philosophus hortulanus esset

    Two things animate me.  The first actually came second, and the second first.  As an undergraduate, I studied philosophy, and that remains to this day my keenest interest. But before that, when I was a teenager, I worked after classes let out for the day at the Armstrong Garden Centers on San Fernando Boulevard in my hometown…

  • Mothering

    Mothering

    After telling people that I’m adopted, the most common reply is a look of shock and then some variation on the question, “So, do you know your birthmother?”  Now, I’m smart enough to understand the question, but I believe that’s an unfortunate phrase, because in every way that matters my “adoptive” mother gave birth to…