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The Stuffing Letter
I have kept a journal since I was 19. A “journal” is like a diary, except entries are not made daily (though they can be) and it is not meant to be a record of anything: such as, “met Ryan for coffee,” or “saw Jennifer Aniston at the Farmer’s Market.” I use my journaling (the…
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Rage, rage against the dying of the light
Let’s get this out of the way right at the start. No. I don’t know who he is. But that is not to say I don’t remember him. Knowing the incubation period for the virus, I can narrow it down to one guy. I call him “white SUV guy.” He lived in Larchmont, a trendy…
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Asking For Help
I got my first “powerchair” (motorized wheelchair) in 2014, seven years after I became wheelchair-bound, and it was nothing short of ecstasy. For the seven years prior, I had grown accustomed to being restricted to a wheelchair; I wasn’t happy about it, but I made the best of it. I lived on my own in…
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Better living through chemistry
If you know me IRL (“in real life”), and if you have known me for a while, you know at least two things about me. One is that I used to smoke – a lot. After a major incident in 2013 that landed me in a pulmonary ICU unable to breath for 15 days, I…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
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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…
Your mileage may vary.